


Don't Try to Play God With Him

by frenchpressit



Series: Don't Try to Play God With Him [1]
Category: Team Fortress 2
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Time Travel, Drama, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, Jealousy, M/M, Mystery, Not Really Character Death, One-Sided Attraction, Rape, Time Travel, Torture
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-02-13
Updated: 2016-09-19
Packaged: 2018-03-12 04:28:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 11
Words: 37,256
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3343658
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/frenchpressit/pseuds/frenchpressit
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Medic gave Engineer a pat upon the back before handing him his hardhat and leaving him alone in his workshop. Once the door closed, he wore his hardhat and approached his table full of files and blue prints. He pulled out the olden file and flipped through before stopping at a particular page. The photo clipped onto it was faded and folded beyond recognition; the name was hard to read from how much the paper must have been ripped up. The only comprehensible thing on the paper was a gigantic red stamp upon it reading DECEASED.</p><p>“…you know Doc, for a dead man you really are one hell of a creation.” He began to trace the edge of the paper, where it read in handwriting: <i>Radiation poisoning the subject was successful. Outcome has been very promising…</i></p><p>“…this just may be the <i>best mistake I’ve ever created in my life. Signed Radigan Conagher</i>.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. I Will Drug You and Make Sure That You Wake Up as a Mole Rat

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dear Reader,
> 
> Hi, I am the author of this fanfic "Don't Try to Play God With Him" and I wanted to warn you before you moved on! This fanfic takes place in an alternate universe, or timeline, where the Medic is born German but due to him moving to England and living there for a long time, he lacks his German accent. This also involves a rather young Medic who happens to _look_ as though that he's in his mid-twenty's, and later in the story mid-thirty's. If all or one of those even remotely bothers you, then I suggest that for your well-being, you just stop reading and find a better suited fanfic for your taste.
> 
> Sincerely,  
> Frenchpressit

“So do you accept my offer?”

 **Year** : _1952_

 **Month** : _Unknown_

 **Location** : _Liverpool, England; a pub_

“I asked you, Mr.Gottfried, if you accept.”

In the corner booth of the bar was a man dressed in a gray tone suit, he _appeared_ as though that he was in his late fifty’s. He sat at one side of the booth and looked calm from how this _negotiation_ was going, which seemed very one sided. In front of him was a man with jet black hair, blue eyes, thinly framed glasses, and the features of a man in his mid twenty’s or maybe even at oldest, late twenty’s. He seemed to be bored by this _negotiation_ and looked like a student attending a boring lecture. Only difference was that he was sat in between men in black suits with each of them holding what it seemed to be loaded guns against his head.

“How did you find me…” The man who now known as _Mr.Gottfried_ ignored the question and instead answered back with another question as he let out a heavy sigh from feeling the guns pressed to his head. “…Mr. Gray Mann?” The older man before him wasn’t fazed by the fact that the man knew his name, instead he gave the man in front of a smile and proceeded to pull out a folder from a suit case sitting next to him. “Hm, not that answer I wanted. Oh, I know you very well, Mr.Gottfried. I like to know my future business associates before I hire them, even if they are mad enough to turn their previous Boss into a kangaroo in the fit of rage.” That got a smile out of Gottfried, he had done that didn’t he? “Bah, he was a pain in my ass. It’s his fault for thinking that my gene-splicing was stupid for his funding. He’s happy now, jumping around and being able to kick people around. Right? Who doesn’t want to be a cute Kangaroo?” The smile upon his face quickly faded when he was quickly reminded from the cold barrels pressed against his head. It didn’t matter if this old man before him knew about him. He wasn’t going to help.

“Your birth name is Nikolaus Gottfried, but you go by the name of Klaus G. Ehrlichmann. You were _forced_ to work for the Nazi’s where you were married to one of your superior officer’s daughter. By the end of the war you had turned most of your test subjects into hybrids of animals, this including your wife and her father.” Some of those facts were able to pull out a mild reaction from the man now known to be Nikolaus. His blue eyes studied the Negotiator, “That is great. You know about my past war crimes, what are you going to do? Turn me into the bounty hunters?”

“You also have an older brother.” A visible jolt of a flinch made Gray smile. This was something he wasn’t expecting, and Gray was happy about this. He began to realize that the man before him had thought that _Gray, himself,_ couldn’t have known more about him than he had previously estimated him about knowing. “Pardon my mistake, I meant _had_ an older brother. His name was Wilhelm Ehrlichmann. He was born and raised in Munich, Germany.” Gray was turning the pages, one by one, turning them slowly so that Nikolaus could read them upside down in a brief moment. “…I think that you should stop while you’re pretty much ahead.” The tone was stern but it wasn’t enough for Gray to stop. He had come to recruit Nikolaus for a cause, and he wasn’t about to quit until the man’s wall was broken down to nothing but mere dusts. “He joined the War at the age of forty-three and gotten himself killed on the field. You were only twenty-one years old.” A small chuckle came out of Nikolaus as he began to shake his head regardless of the guns being pressed against his head, “You best stop old man, or else you’re going to regret it.”

“He was born in the year of 1871, on the month of December. Little is known other than the fact that he died in the early February of 1915, before his forty-fourth birthday.” Nikolaus reached out to grab Gray before he was slammed face first onto the table, this causing his glasses to be knocked off and onto the floor where it laid shattered from the impact. The two men gripped his wrist and pressed it against his back while cocking their pistols. They kept their eyes upon him and had their fingers prepared to pull the trigger.

Gray only chuckled in amusement before pulling out a piece of paper to show Nikolaus, one hand pressed against the table before leaning down to get a face to face look at the now broken nosed man before him, he flashed the paper“…It says here that you were born in 1872. I may not know the specific date, but you were important enough to have paper trails that survived during your mission on erasing yourself from the world.” He slammed the paper onto the table and leaned closer to whisper into Nikolaus’ ear, “…I was born in the month of September, date of 22, in the year of 1822.”

It was then when Nikolaus realized what Gray wanted.

“How is it that a seventy-nine-years-old man…looks as though that he’s been lost in his mid- twenties?”

As he waved his hand, the two men lifted Nikolaus back up to sit straight. Then, in awe, Gray watched as the broken nose upon Nikolaus’ began to heal itself.

“What is your secret?”

“I don’t know.”

“What. Is your secret?”

“Kill me and then maybe I’ll tell you, ya old wanker.”

“Alright then.”

“Wait, what?”

The two men pulled the trigger and blew Nikolaus’ head into what it seemed to be a spilled bowl of chili with noodles. The pub itself was quiet and still as it had been. Gray took a sit and fixed his now blood splattered suit before cleared his throat to begin looking at his watch. Half a minute later, his eyes transfixed upon the twitch of the now open skulled body. Gray watched as Nikolaus’ body began to reconstruct his brain, skull, and then the muscles over it. This man was recovering as though that he was in his two idiotic brothers’ battle field. A whole minute later and there Nikolaus was, everything fixed from hair, head, to neck. The blood and brain matters were all over the table, but that didn’t faze Gray as he gave him a smirk, “Now, what is your secret?”

“…radiation.”

Gray tilted his head, “Radiation?”

“Yeah. When I was studying gene-splicing, my professor laughed at my face and hired an old American _Joke_ to be my _mentor_ …not going to get into details but the guy had some hands on Australium . I only heard about it, but he had a lot. I helped him and he tried his best to make my gene-splicing become reality. It was during his making of some machine—it blew up with me testing it. This wasn’t supposed to happen, and he thought I was dead but eh…no. I woke up a day later because my entire body was blown into smithereens. He figured that it was due to the Australium being embedded into my body that I was alive and regenerating. He also told me that my regeneration _shouldn’t_ last long and that it may die down soon, but—SINCE I don’t get shot in the head much or get blow up, that’s all I know. ”

“So your body is producing Australium?”

“No you dumb old chum. What I’m saying is that I have a certain amount of Australium in my body, _along_ with radiation. You forget about that bloody radiation part? My body is a walking radiation.”

“Then, you don’t know how to extend a man’s life span?”

“Don’t know about life span, but with the Australium Radiation my body’s been going through, it has been helping out with my gene-splicing really well. Other than that, I can’t promise you a life span expending machine.”

“Who said anything about a machine?”

Nikolaus couldn’t help but to feel the drop of his stomach as Gray gives him a widened smile.  
That was the last thing he remembered before waking up in an all white room, tied onto a metallic surgical bed.

…

 **Year** : _Thirteen years later; 1965_

 **Month** : _Unknown_

 **Location** : Administrator’s Office

“So…you’re the boy that Radigan told me about…”

“Radigan Conagher was my mentor, yes.”

“And you’re the boy that has the gifted Australium Radiation poisoning.”

“Yes, but it isn’t a gift.”

The Administrator gave out an amused chuckle before waving her cigarette. A mousy woman with glasses approached the two, there in her hand was a suitcase.

“I know that Gray Mann has molded you the last thirteen years. You’re not coming here to work for either of the Mann twins; you’re here for the Australium.”

Nikolaus sat straight upon the chair, his once jet black hair was now a hinted with very little white hair; however, his physical features had not been changed and behind his spectacles were blue eyes which were lively, both features which have been the same since 1952. The fact that the Administrator knew of his plans didn’t affect him in anyways. This didn’t stop her from tapping the large oak table sitting between them and having the woman standing by to place the suitcase. She flicked in the password upon it and unlocked it. What was in the suitcase, made Nikolaus breath in deeply. It wasn’t much of a reaction, but it made the Administrator happy.

“That’s exactly the reaction I wanted from you. Now tell me where it is.” A laughter escaped Nikolaus’ lip as he began to motion his hand to writing over his hand. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He continued his hand motions to send obvious signs that he was signaling for a piece of paper and a writing utensil. The Administrator tilted her head towards the mousy lady who then pulled out a hand gun. This made Nikolaus slowly shake his head as the Administrator laughed, “You know exactly what I’m talking about. Now, tell Ms. Pauling where the wire is placed.” The moment he placed his hand over his Adam’s apple, this woman whom he believed to be was just a mousy secretary placed her gun over it and fired through. He couldn’t let out a scream due to it being a through and through shot as the bullet exited through his spinal cord.

On the floor laid a now damaged wire box, bloodied and beyond repair. Nikolaus began to choke on his own blood before placing his hand over his neck now holding a hole. The woman now known as Ms. Pauling stepped out of the office while the Administrator stared down at her watch. The sound of gargling was all that could be heard for a minute before the wound began to close up. By this time, Ms. Pauling had returned with a bucket full of water and a mop. She then began to mop up the blood on the floor while the Administrator frowned let out a disgruntled huff.

“I have witnesses stating that it took you just little over a minute or two to heal up from two bullets to the head. Did Gray break you down to this?” Nikolaus only smiled and dug into his pocket to pull out a handkerchief. He began to wipe the blood from the edge of his lip as he then ignored the Administrator’s question, “I don’t really care to answer that, but I’ll thank you for helping me get that thing out of me. That old ass fixed it to stay in my neck for months until my body finally accepted it. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have a date with Mr.Gray to turn him into something grotesque for the way he treated me the last thirteen years.”

“If you want to live, you’ll sit your bratty ass down and work for me.”

Nikolaus felt a hand upon his shoulder as he began to stand up. It was Ms.Pauling, except now she didn’t have that mop. She had a rocket launcher over her shoulder and aimed at his face.

“…Miss, I dare you to blast me away—“

_So she did._

Half of Nikolaus’ body was obliterated, lower half still situated upon the chair as though that he was still sitting there. Ms. Pauling only looked over at the Administrator, fearing if she had gone too far.

“I think we went too far, Ma’am.”

“Give him fifteen minutes or so. Men can be so stubborn; they just need a good knock on their head before they learn. Make sure he’s tied up. He’s going to be _angry_ when he awakens.”

…

_Fifteen minutes later_

“I’LL TURN YOUR SAGGY BREASTED FLESH SACK INTO A BLOODY WALRUS YOU BATSHIT CRAZY WOMAN!” Nikolaus was annoyed, not because he was blown up, but because no one cared about how much it pained him to die and come back. Oh and just how much that spectacle had cost him since his eye sights began to fail due to certain experiments done to him by Gray Mann’s associates. This also didn’t change the fact that his regeneration was slowing down, but those who were causing it wanted him to somehow _extend_ their life span while shrinking his own. At least, that’s how it had been with Gray Mann. He felt as though that it was going to be the same with the Administrator. His life was thrown from one crazy bastard’s hand to a crazy bitch’s hand.

“If you’ll do as I say now, I’ll make sure that you are supplied enough to support both my life machine and your plan to cure yourself of this radiation.” The Administrator smiled and tapped his finger on top of the still opened case. Nikolaus felt his eyes fixate upon the contents within it. He had wanted to die for so long that this would have been the perfect fix. Unlike Gray who wanted his help for his own selfish needs, the Administrator wanted a symbiotic relationship. Everything felt too good to be true, but he felt the rope around his waist begin to loosen with the help of Ms. Pauling.

“So…”

The Administrator smiled and tapped onto the suit case.

“You’re quite the businesswoman…” Nikolaus felt his breath shake.

“…I know what I want and I know what you want. Why not make it even?”

The amount of Australium in the suit case reflected on Nikolaus’ blue pupils.

“…I’ll do it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I haven't finished working on my two fanfics which are still a work in progress, but this has been a story I've had deep in my mind for the longest time. "Without You, Without Me" was the first fanfic that I worked with the joy of fooling around with ships I enjoyed, but "Don't Try to Play God With Him", is a fanwork I've been wanting to put into words soon after. Nikolaus and Wilhelm in this story has no relations to those in "Without You,Without Me". I find interest in gene-splicing and human testing, and so when I saw that Engineer and Medic worked together in the Bread video, I very much took it as a sign. 
> 
> "Love Will Burn You Icarus" is in a hiatus due to my writer's block. It was half written at my peak interest of SniperXMedic, but until my writer's block for that particular fanfic is healed, I will do my best on juggling this fanfic and "Without You, Without Me".
> 
> More tags and characters will be added as the story goes by, but I really wanted to test the waters with this first chapter. Reviews are highly recommended, because I want to know what the readers think of this.
> 
> Seeing as how the first chapter goes, I might post up the second one.
> 
> I also will add more warnings as the chapters make progression.


	2. My Ex-Wife Was a Yapper So I Turned Her Into a Chihuahua

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nikolaus is assigned to the BLU team to become their new BLU Medic. He is strangely disliked by a some mercenaries and liked by rest. Not that it really matters, he just wants to finish up working with BLU Engineer, Dell Conagher, so that he can somehow cure himself of this radiation. Also, why is Scout always trying to get his attention? Rug burn while roughhousing is one of those things Nikolaus didn't expect to treat while working for the Administrator.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I felt as though that the first chapter wasn't really enough to test the water, so since I already had the second chapter ready to go--well here you go. You're on the page right now. If you scroll down, you'll be able to read it; although, that is entirely up to you. If you made it through the first chapter without going back, then--you are a survivor! Thank you for reading the first chapter so here's the second one.

“Yo Doc! I got myself burned over here! Can ya help me?”

 **Year** : _1967_

 **Month** : _Unknown_

 **Location** : _BLU Base_

“Augh, Scout you’re a real little basket case, you know that?”

The BLU had gotten another Medic, two years ago, after one night their previous Medic had mysteriously disappeared. This one was younger than the others and it seemed as though that he was of English decent instead of German. He _said_ he was German, but his accent didn’t prove him otherwise. This didn’t cause problems between him and the other Mercenaries, but some preferred that they didn’t stay associated with him for long. It could have been that there were rumors of him being a mad man, or something more. There were also rumors of what happened to the Medic that had previously worked in his spot. Some had heard that he retired, others said that he was _taken care of_ , and finally there were bone chilling tales of how the new Medic had turned him into a dog and sent him off to an adoption shelter.

“Why do you always come to me for help? Don’t you understand that no one likes me?” His jet black hair peppered with hints of white swayed as his blue eyes glared at the burned wound. He fixed his glasses and irritably he began to clean the burn on the Scout’s elbow. It was an obvious rug burn, most likely happened while he was rough housing with another Mercenary. Scout was also the persistent one who always somehow wanted only _his_ attention. No other Mercenaries were bothered, except him. He figured it was due to how much younger he looked compared to the other Medics they had previously worked with. Sure he looked in his mid twenty’s, but this didn’t change the fact that his personality and mentality worked same as the other Medics who was most likely in their mid fifty’s or forty’s.

“What? You’re the Doc, you’re supposed to help with pain, right?!” Scout huffed as he watched Medic clean his wound. It made Medic’s eyes roll upon the _obvious_ statement. “Yes, but you call me for everything. You call me when you forget how to work the coffee machine. You call me when you can’t reach the bloody fuckin’ cups in the cupboards. You even call me when the hot water doesn’t work in the showers. That’s the damned Engineer’s job!” The allegations didn’t change the Scout’s proud and puffed chest as his now cleaned wound was bandaged. “You happen to be close ta’ me is all! Come on Doc! It’s your job to help out, right?”

It wasn’t that Medic didn’t like helping people out, that was his job, but Scout had his way of pushing it. He really was abusing the definition of one helping them out.

As he finished up treating the wound, Medic opened his mouth to utter words of disgust, but instead he was interrupted by another.

“Hey there Doc’, was wonderin’ if you were free right now?”

It was the Engineer, standing by the entrance and _looking_ at Medic as though that he didn’t see the Scout. “I got somethin’ in my workshop that I need you t’ look at.”

Since the two years he had been working here, the only mercenary Medic was closed to was Engineer. The first day the new Medic arrived, Engineer was the first to introduce him and take him away into his workshop before he was introduced to any of the other mercenaries. It wasn’t until a week later since his first arrival that he would be properly introduced to the other mercenaries. It seemed as though that not much had changed since the first day.

“Sure. Scout, please leave the infirmary. I have some business to check with Engineer.”

“What, you guys datin’ or somethin’?”

The Scout’s outburst of a question made Medic roll his eyes. Heading to the door and leaving the question unanswered, “Would you please sod off?” He found himself holding the door for the Scout as Engineer then stepped clear of the pathway. Scout scoffed in irritation and marched his way towards the door, but not before stopping in front of Medic to direct a single middle finger at him. “Bet you’re a bottom, Doc, with this all looking like a booty call and all.”

Medic’s eye twitched from the annoyance, but before he was able to say anything, Scout waved his hand and walked away, “Whatever fancies ya, Doc! I ain’t judgin’!” Scout turned around the corner and disappeared, leaving Medic and Engineer all alone. “He’s a real basket case.” He muttered in disbelief while locking the Med-Bay and following Engineer to the workshop.

“I don’t blame the kid Doc; we do spend an awful amount of time together. It’s a misunderstandin’ waitin’ to happen. “

Engineer stopped in front of his room’s entrance and took off his goggle to have his eye scanned. The door only opened for Engineer, and only him. There was a good reason for this and for safety measures from any sly Spies out there, be it their team or the enemy team. The entrance had an x-ray scan to keep _intruders_ out.

“Yes, but you and I both know why we’re like this.”

Medic gave out a heavy sigh as he saw his own reflection on the window nearby. His hair was the only hint to show that he was aging, _slowly_ , sure there were no bodily changes to him, but it was the regretful fact there was no way to fast forward it. _Yet_.

“Shush Doc, don’t talk about it outside.” Engineer’s took a glance around from the paranoia. Once the door opened, Engineer entered and waited for Medic to follow him in. He kept his eyes upon the x-ray scanner and once he was sure that they weren't followed, he closed the door.

Engineer’s room was of no secret, but what happened inside was. No one had entered here but Medic. Not just any Medics, just this Medic.

Once inside the room, Engineer approached a vault door at the far end of his room and had his eyes scanned again, this leading the vault door to open. When both of them finally made their way into the workshop, the vault door locked up to tighten up the already strengthened security.

“You’re lucky that my Grandfather talked about you Doc. If he didn’t, I wouldn’t have agreed to work with you even with the Administrator’s request.”

“Radigan was a great mentor. My professor at my University believed that I was a nut job. Didn’t take my works seriously, he didn’t take your grandfather’s works seriously either.”

Engineer smiled and approached the computer in front of them, pushing various sequences of buttons before turning around to walk over to a table filled with what it seemed to be endless amount of blue prints.

“I think it was good that they didn’t take him seriously, if they did then we’d be in a whole different pile of cow shit here.”

…

 **Year** : _1965_

 **Month** : _Unknown; after accepting of the job offer_

 **Location** : _Administrator’s Office_

“Good! You accept. Smart boy. Now go and get yourself changed into your new work clothing. You look foolish half naked there.”

Administrator was obviously unfazed by the sight of the half-naked body she had just seen. It was something she was expecting. The glimpse of the scar ridden body was all she needed to confirm for sure that he was indeed going to betray Gray Mann and work for her. Nikolaus on the other hand didn't care for the background reason and gave the Administrator a glare, but before he was about to tell her of how it was her fault for him looking _foolish_ , he felt a tap upon his shoulder. It was Ms. Pauling, holding onto a blue vacuum sealed package which read _BLU Class: Medic_. He gave out a disgruntled groan and followed her, not before stopping by the door and flipping up the middle finger towards the Administrator, “You witch.”

When the door closed behind them, Ms. Pauling turned her back and didn't move. Nikolaus was confused and stood in the awkward silence. _Wait, did she want him to change right now?_ Ms. Pauling cleared her throat, “Aren’t you going to change into it?”

Nikolaus gave out a sigh and rolled his eyes. It was an awkward situation, but it wasn't going to stop him from changing. He had changed in front of his ex-wife who he had turned into a Chihuahua. It fit her due to her constant yapping. The memories made Nikolaus chuckle out of pure amusement.

“She’s been searching for you for quite some time.”

“Oh really? I’m shocked.” His sarcastic tone was lazed by this _fact_. Anyone who knew about the Australium or Radigan tended to know about him. He just wanted to die in peace while working on one of his hybrid projects. He had yet to successfully infuse the animal and human in a way that they were able to retain the human side. It always was the human mentality, thoughts, intelligence, but none of the features. _Maybe if I were to somehow keep the subject alive…_

“I saw you once, during your transfer last year. Gray had you locked in an iron maiden. It must have been quite irritating with all the spikes and all.”

Nikolaus’ thoughts were interrupted by Ms. Pauling’s insight. He pulled his arm through one sleeve and the other as he couldn’t help but to give out an amused chuckle, “Irritating is one way of saying it; although, I would go with numbness because by then the man had tortured me enough to really knock me out of this world.”

“Sorry about blowing your upper body away.”

It was confusing as to why Ms. Pauling was apologizing and trying to start a conversation with him, but he wasn’t bothered by it. It had been quite sometime since he was able to hold a conversation with someone who wasn't in a way _interrogating_ him or _experimenting_ on him.

“It wasn’t your fault, it was your job and I respect you for it. There aren’t many women out there, like you or the Administrator. My ex-wife was the type who used others get what she wanted.” He said bitterly as he finished buttoning up his shirt and began to get into his pants.

“By now, I’ve seen a lot of women, but very few who are strong minded and well-spoken like the Administrator.”

“Well you’re ninety-two years old; I would be surprised if you haven’t met a lot of women.”

“Ninety-two years old with a body like this…might be a reason why I don’t get many women.”

Ms. Pauling stood in silence upon the statement. At least that was enough for Nikolaus to know Ms. Pauling was thinking of what to say without _offending_ his ugly and scarred body,

“Some women are into scars…and I saw in the files that before you were kidnapped by Gray, you didn't have any scars. Now you just have to find a woman who sees your scars as attractive. All this only _if_ you're interested in looking for another wife to turn into a Chihuahua.”

Nikolaus paused and looked down at his now clothed body. He then shrugged and buckled the belt. It didn’t surprise him that anyone working for Mann. Co or in the search for Australium was educated enough to know about his age and life story. It had been a long time since he had come across anyone who knew so much about him. This didn’t only include Ms. Pauling, but the Administrator and Gray Mann too. It made him almost want to-- _turn them into test subjects and run away to maybe Siberia_ ; although, Ms. Pauling wasn't a _pain_ to really talk to, unlike Gray Mann and the Administrator.

“Are you done?”

“Yes, I am.”

He fixed his tie before buttoning up the Mann. Co assigned lab coat. He felt out of place, but it wasn’t as out of place from the several of places Gray had locked him in. All he needed now was his spectacles to make this world look _less_ blurry.

“Here you go.”

When Ms. Pauling places the new spectacles upon the bridge of Nikolaus’ nose, he was surprised to see a better look at the female _assistant_. It could have been the fact that he didn’t pay much attention to her until she had literally blown him away. It also didn’t help that he didn’t have his spectacles when he wanted to get a good look at her.

“…thank you.”

“Oh my, Medic your nose—IT’S BLEEDING!”

Nikolaus flinched and reached up to feel the blood. The regeneration must have taken quite the toll on him this time; however, he realized just how much of a negative signal he was sending by having this sudden nosebleed.

“I-It’s from the regeneration! It didn’t only slow down; it’s taking more from me. It’s nothing else! You got to trust me!”

“I thought so…I didn’t think anything else. What else could it have been?”

Ms. Pauling’s rather dumbfounded look made Nikolaus shake his head as he then tried to wipe the blood away with his sleeve.

“Wait wait. Those are new. We’re about to meet someone so don’t dirty it already.” Ms. Pauling then pulled out a handkerchief from her pocket and began wiped the blood away. It was a generous gesture, but Nikolaus was now mentally focused on who he was about to meet.

“It’s going to confuse him that you’re not going to have a German accent, but I’m sure he’ll understand.”

Once the blood was wiped away, Ms. Pauling turned back around to head out the door. Nikolaus quickly followed her tail as she swiftly made her way down the long hallway. Watching her from behind, he saw her fidget around. She must have been fixing her clothing or something in order to look proper for the one they were about to meet. To Nikolaus, his impression on Ms. Pauling was quite the professional. When the hallway felt as though that it was never going to end, Nikolaus only hoped that Ms. Pauling wouldn’t make a sudden stop.

“Here we are.”

“What--?”

Nikolaus bumped into Ms. Pauling as she did just that. _Suddenly stop_. The door next to them read _”Meet(ing) the BLUs”_. The parenthesis was a bit unnecessary, but sure enough when Nikolaus did a double take it was still there.

Ms. Pauling opened the door and entered, “Sorry we’re late, as she expected him to, he took the long way.”

“It’s fine Ms. Pauling. Some men can be stubborn as a pack mule.”

Nikolaus’ ear flinched when he heard the accent, it was a familiar Texan tone, but he was sure that it couldn’t have been _him_. So when he entered the room, he was amused to find a bald man wearing familiar clothing set as his once mentor had.

“It’s nice to meet you Doc. I’m Dell Conagher, the BLU Engineer. I’m looking forward to working with you. My Grandfather, Radigan Conagher, has told me some stories about you.”

“Did he? I was young, curious, and foolish back then, so let us not compare the two, yes?”

Engineer’s head tilted out of curiosity. This was what Ms. Pauling must have been talking about before with Nikolaus. _His accent_.

“Uh…I am German, technically I am still German but I have resided in England for the longest time. Pardon my lack of...the German accent.” Nikolaus couldn’t believe that he had just apologize to another for _not_ having his accent. He had purposely done his very best to get rid of his accent in order to live his new life, so this was quite out of the ordinary.

“Hm…” Engineer hummed for a brief moment, pausing for a dramatic effect before bursting out into a hearty laughter. “Don’t you worry Doc! It’s not like your accent’s going to mess with the quality of your work! I’m surprised but it’s not enough to stop me from working with you!”

Ms. Pauling smiled and pulled out an envelope from within the pages of her clipboard, “Well then, Mr. Conagher.” She handed him the envelope and shook his hand, “It was nice to meet you both but you two will have to head off to the Base now. I trust that you will help your new Medic find his room.” She looked briefly over at Nikolaus before heading back out the door. Nikolaus’ kept his eyes upon her until she left, leaving Engineer to approach and give him a light pat upon his back, “You found interest in Ms. Pauling? Ain’t she a _bit_ young for you?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. Now let us head to the Base. We shouldn’t waste our time like this!” Nikolaus fixed his glasses and cleared his throat.

“You shouldn’t have aged a bit…”

Engineer placed his hand upon Nikolaus’ shoulder and pointed at the couple strands of white hair.

“My grandfather told me that you shouldn’t have aged in any physical way. So what happened?”

The room was silent, and Nikolaus glanced over at Engineer as though that he _should_ have known the answer.

“…ah…sorry this happened to you Doc. It was just some freak accident is all… _not your fault_.”

Nikolaus let out a sigh, massaging the bridge of his nose as Engineer began to lead him out the second door in the room.

“Yeah, freak accident…is that what Radigan call it?”

“Yup, well we best get this machine on the road. Agreed?”

“Let us get this shit over with.”

…

 **Year** : _1967_

 **Month** : _Unknown_

 **Location** : _BLU Engineer’s Workshop_

“We’ve been at this for two years now…you’d think we would have gotten places.”

Engineer smiled and began to fix the folders upon his table, covering an aged one under the masses while Medic looked up at the screen which was previously pulled up by him, “Well Doc, it takes patience and it still gives you time with your hybrid projects.”

“Agreed…ugh…” Medic’s face turned to disgust as though that something had just dawned on him.

“What’s wrong, Doc?”

There was a deep sigh as Medic closed his eyes and slowly shook his head.

“…I dread that once I leave this workshop…I’ll be bothered by a certain…bugger.”

“Scout?”

“Spy.”

“Ah…Spy…”

Engineer knew this just as well as the other mercenaries. Spy _hated_ Medic so much that it was causing complications within the Base. It was on the popular note that Medic was already disliked by the majority of the mercenaries. Soldier disliked him for being too young and not being a _Medic_ material. Pyro didn’t dislike him, but in a way feared him due to all the horrific rumors some had _jokingly_ dropped around. Demoman too was on the same page as Pyro and didn't want anything to do with him for the fear of being _replaced_ by another Demoman or even being turned into maybe as he stated as: dear ol’ Nessy.

Sniper and Spy were of a whole different level of hatred. The first time Medic was introduced to Sniper was the _only_ time they had met face to face or exchanged words.

_”Hello, Sniper. I am the new Medic and I look forward to working with you.”_

_“…roight, mate.”_

After that, the two didn’t exchange words or even glances. It wasn’t that Medic didn’t want to talk to him or approach him, but Sniper seemed to avoid him from both on and off the field. He could never tell what the man was thinking about due to the aviator.

Spy was a special case. On the field Medic was safe from the Spy, but in the Base the man had the constant habit of ambushing him. He had been snuck up more by the BLU Spy than he had with the RED Spy. It was always when he was alone in the hallway, locker room, or anywhere in the base. The man didn’t technically _kill_ him, but there were times when he would almost _bully_ him as though that he was back in grade school. He had been beaten up several times by Spy; although, it wasn’t bad enough to send him to spawn and it helped that his body took care of the wounds. The excessive amount of small regenerations, ironically, was eventually costing Medic with the speed of the ability. It would have been best if Spy killed him, but that would have left logs and eventually lead to investigation of team-killing.

As for the Scout, Heavy, and Engineer, they didn’t seem to hate Medic at all. Sure Scout always wanted his attention by accidentally injuring himself as frequent as he could, but there was no _real_ harm in that. Heavy on the other hand showed rather great fondness of Medic, even though at first the man showed slight discomfort from the lack of a German accent. He was obviously used to the previous Medics all holding an obvious German accent, so when Heavy had some time aside Medic took his time to explain his situation.

The current story was that he, Medic, was born in Germany but studied in England majority of his life. Only the Engineer would know of his real story.  
“I would enjoy my stay in here as long as I could but…I best make my way back once I see what you found out. I’m sure that is why you called me here.”

Engineer approached the computer and pressed a series of numbers to bring up a file, showing its contents by lining them across the screen.

“I figured out that we can _expand_ the power level so that the life machine can last longer with fewer Australium.”

“That’s not what she wants. She wants the _freak_ accident to happen. She wants the Australium Radiation.”

Engineer smiled and shook his head, “Well maybe we can make that happen?”

“Please Engineer, don’t be silly. It was a _freak_ accident as you so kindly phrased it before.”

“Yeah. Yeah, that I did.”

There were no obvious differences within the data upon the screen, making Medic give out a sigh of frustration. It was true that the life machine could have an extended time, but that was extended. Medic knew for sure that what the Administrator wanted was what _he_ had.

“Engineer—“

“Doc, did you gain more white hair?”

“No. Not really. Why do you ask?”

“Your hair, it’s becoming more…uh salted?”

Engineer approached the Medic, examining the hair before letting out a disgruntled groan, “It’s the Spy! Ain’t it?!”

Medic watched as Engineer took off his hardhat and threw it across the room. It was surprisingly to see the man so frustrated over such a matter.

“Engineer, it’s fine—“

“No it ain’t! The more you regenerate, the faster you’ll age and the faster you age—well then how in the hell are we supposed to finish this _life machine_ , huh?! You’re the only one my grandfather worked with! There aren’t Docs out there who _know_ as much as you do. I will kill that snake and make him into a boot if he continues to this—“

“ENGINEER! Please, the best we can do for now is to treat this like mature adults. I will—I will talk to Spy tonight. I’ve tried once before…but that did not end well; however, I cannot have the Administrator know about this, there must be a very logical explanation about why the Spy has been treating me like this. These white hairs are the results of only two years of what the Spy has been doing to me, so it is of no threat to _our_ research. If you also have not noticed, my facial and physical features have yet to be influenced from these regenerations. I still look…well discounting the now and then dark circles and my salted hair…as though I am in my twenty’s…”

The room was filled with silence as Medic then approached Engineer to place his hands upon his shoulders. He gave them a light squeeze and smiled, “I will be fine, so don’t worry about my problem. You must keep your attention on the machine.”

Medic gave Engineer a pat upon the back before handing him his hardhat and leaving him alone in his workshop. Once the door closed, he wore his hardhat and approached his table full of files and blue prints. He pulled out the olden file and flipped through before stopping at a particular page. The photo clipped onto it was faded and folded beyond recognition; the name was hard to read from how much the paper must have been ripped up. The only comprehensible thing on the paper was a gigantic red stamp upon it reading _DECEASED_.

“…you know Doc, for a dead man you really are one hell of a creation.” He began to trace the edge of the paper, where it read in handwriting: _Radiation poisoning the subject was successful. Outcome has been very promising_ …

“…this just may be the _best mistake_ I’ve ever created in my life. Signed Radigan Conagher.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading, reviews and feedback would be much appreciated!


	3. We Asked The Questions And Found Out That Gray Mann is a Dick

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Medic fears of his next encounter with Spy, but Scout is of different level. Scout is nosy and always in Medic's business, maybe that isn't so bad after all; although, Medic would really like to get this bullying thing out of the way with Spy. There must be some good reasons if he was bullied for for a nearly two years, right?

The stress in his mind only strengthened as Medic exited Engineer’s workshop. Once he stepped out of this room, he would be out in the open and then—Medic’s mind overcame with paranoia. He had to quickly make his way back into his room before the Spy caught the scent of him. It wasn’t that he was afraid of him; he just feared that he was going to be _beaten_ again. If only he had a bodyguard of sort. It also didn’t help that the Engineer was noticing his _aging_.

“Okay…I will be fine. Augh, if only permanently harming a teammate isn’t of penalty…”

When Medic took in a deep breath, he quickly reached out and opened the door to the hallway. There he was greeted with the Scout, who seemed to be leaning against the wall while checking out his dog tags. “Oh! Doc! Uh, I didn’t expect to see ya here.”

Medic’s dull gaze shot through the transparent boy in front of him. He wasn’t of annoyance, but Medic always thought that he was a bit too transparent. “…hello Scout…” That was when he realized, if he were to stick to Scout, then he wouldn’t have to worry about Spy’s ambush. This was a good plan indeed, a very good plan. Medic walked up to the Scout and cleared his throat to catch his already caught attention, “Would you like to accompany me back to the med-bay?”

“What? Me? You talking to me?”

“Yes. Who else is here but you, Scout?”

“Oh! Uh—I don’t know uh…yeah! Yeah! Sure Doc!”

The childlike innocence before him was of slight confusion on Medic’s end but for now, it was of no matter. The med-bay was only a couple corners away from Engineer’s room, so he wouldn’t have to worry too much about holding a conversation with the boy.

“So Doc…”

 _Or not_.

“Yes, Scout?” Medic asked as he gave a sigh.

“Are you and Engie datin’?”

Medic gave a frown, why couldn’t two men just work together without others imagining there being a sexual agenda? The accusation wasn’t offensive to Medic, but it was quite shallow of some of them for thinking the way they were.

“Scout…”

“Not that I care! It’s just that people might talk and get the wrong idea if you weren’t. You know how some of these guys can be! I’m just looking out for ya Doc!”

The way that Scout want acting like a child irritated Medic, but he wasn’t going to call him out for it. Maybe the boy really was doing this with good intention, and if not, who cares? Nothing bad could possibly come from this.

“No, he and I are not _dating_ and if I were to be in a relationship, then it would be to my own work.”

“Oh yeah? That’s cool. That’s cool.”

Scout fidgeted as they approached the final corner, “Um…Doc uh—“

“Docteur.”

The blood in Medic’s face drained as he heard the voice he dreaded to hear. This was emotionally unhealthy, right? It must have been; this was an unhealthy example of emotional abuse. He tried his best to keep his cool before seeing himself face to face with Spy who now was looking at the flustered Scout. “And…Scout. Coming back from a date?”

“No.”

“F-FUCK OFF SPY!”

Spy’s eyes were fixed upon Scout before looking back at Medic with a smile upon his face. _A smile which dropped Medic’s stomach to the lowest of its depths._ He was never the type to give up, but if this kept up then this wouldn’t be a problem for one but two.

“It’s good to see you Spy, I’ve been meaning to talk to you.”

Maybe Spy wasn’t expecting this, but his smile seemed to widen as he placed his hand upon Medic’s arm, giving it a pat, “Anything for you. Docteur.”

“Wait Doc, didn’t ya need to head to the med-bay?”

Medic gave Scout a shake of his head, “Not anymore Scout, I have something to talk about with the Spy.”

Scout only stood there, speechless as Spy and Medic made their way around the corner. He placed his hand over his chest and bit the inside of his cheek. Something was pounding in his chest, but everything came to a halt with a single voice.

“Scout, w’ot are you doin’ in the middle of the hallway?”

Sniper approached from behind the Scout with a knapsack hanging over his shoulder. Scout looked as though that he was about to cry, but instead turned with a grin upon his face.

“Just forgot something is all. Ya sleepin’ in the room tonight?”

“That’s my business, but think w’ot you want.”

That’s when it hit Scout, he may have not been the smartest cookie in the jar but he knew human behavior enough when he saw enough of it. One thing for sure was that he had seen Sniper and Medic never exchange words. He never saw them in the field talking or in the base talking.

“Yo Snipes, ya hate the Doc or somethin’?”

Sniper’s expression didn’t flinch as he then continued pass Scout to head towards his room. He must have expected Scout not to follow him, but even Sniper knew what Scout was going to do.

“I never see ya talk to the Doc. Did he do somethin’ to ya?”

The hallway to the Support Team was only a couple feet away, Sniper knew that once he into his room then he could lock Scout out. Scout, however, had thought this through and ran up ahead and stood in front of Sniper’s room, “Come on Snipes. Why is it that you and Spy are always so secretive, huh? You both have something against the Doc.”

This caught Sniper’s attention, although Scout couldn’t tell due to his expressionless face, but it did get an answer from him, “I don’t hate him. Everything else is my business, now step aside.”

Scout looked at Sniper for a long while, not wanting to move until he got more out of him; however, knowing that this was all he was going to get, he stepped to the side. Sniper entered his room without another word, leaving Scout to stand outside. He lingered for a moment, his index finger now brushing against his own chin before dashing off as though that an idea had given him a good smack upon his back.

…

“OOF—“

Spy knocked the air out of Medic by landing his square into his stomach. He kept a grip upon Medic’s collar before kneeing him into the same spot. Medic on the other hand was in a rather defensive mode, holding his stomach from the second assault. “Talk you said. Talk. Tick tock Docteur. Your time is up.” As Spy raised his leg up to kick the Medic onto the floor, it was countered with a grip upon his ankle.

“I said that I was going to talk, and that is exactly what I am going to do…” Medic found himself flipping Spy over with the grip around his ankle, changing their positions so that Spy was now below and pinned. They had come out to the fenced walkway to the spawn where the chilled Coldfront’s wind blew past them with a hint of snow; this didn’t make Medic or Spy flinch as they glared at each other. Medic’s grip upon Spy’s wrist tightened while his legs secured those below by pressing over them to make sure no sneak attack was coming up.

“Why are you doing this? Are you working for Gray Mann? Is that it?”

Spy snorted and gave out a mocking laughter before bringing the short lasted laughter into an abrupt halt. He leaned upwards to Medic, spitting at his face before leaning back.

“Me? Working for ze Gray Mann? Non. You are!”

Medic’s eyes flinched upon the spit landing on his cheek. _Working for Gray Mann?_ Medic tilted his head and squinted his eyes, focusing on Spy’s eyes. He never focused on them due to always fearing the punches and kicks. Those eyes weren’t familiar at the top of his head but then Spy helped by whispering the following statement, “…although…by now you should remember me.”

 _This was true_. Once he was kidnapped by Gray Mann, assassins were sent one after the other to kill him. He didn’t know why, but he did remember that there were two assassination _attempts_ that stuck out for him.

One was a clean headshot while he was sitting in the prison cell with no window. That attempt stuck out due to the fact that the shot came through two air vents. This meant that the hired assassin was able to find and kill him through the small bent spacing on the two vents. They would have then lined it up to deliver the killing shot; all this would have taken extreme patience for they would have waited for Medic to eventually walk into their sight.

The second one however was memorable due to the fact that he caught his own assassin. Due to his countless assassination attempts, Gray had moved him around many times. During one of his moves, he was locked to stay in a _hotel room_ where it lacked windows or air ducts big enough for a human to enter or exit. It was then when he gotten a visit with room service. The man was handsome and kind to him; it was the most kindness he had received in years since being kidnapped by Gray. The man treated him with utmost care until the moment he drank his cup of water. When he didn’t show any reactions, the man drew out a revolver. He took several shots to his abdomen but was able to fight back to cause enough racket. The guards outside entered to capture the _assassin_ and that was the end of that. _That was until now._

The man back then was now looking back into his eyes, except he was now lying below him with a blue balaclava over his face. “…what did Gray do to you?”

“You should know what I went through. Is he not your employer? I learned that you were hired by ze…old sadistic bastard.”

Medic’s heart felt relieved as he then freed Spy’s grip. It didn’t take much to know that Spy too had become the victim of Gray Mann’s torture. He was sure that the torture wasn’t of the same level, but the fact that this was the very reason why he was bullied around was quite a relief.

“…ha…ha…”

Spy’s eyes narrowed to look at Medic who was slowly laughing. His shoulder shook as he backed up to give Spy some room. His laughter became louder as he began to laugh at the night sky. This only confused Spy more as he looked at the now madly laughing man before him. “What is so funny?”

“Ha ha ha ha ha….ha…hm…” Medic’s laughter died gradually as he stood up and stepped away from Spy. His hand reached up to loosen his tie, tugging it until it slipped free and onto the floor. He began to unbutton his vest, and once done he went for his shirt. Spy took a stand and dusted himself while curiously looking at Medic who now was stripping. “Have you lost your m—“Spy’s words dropped when Medic showed him what lied underneath all the clothing. Spy eyed the scars of obvious burns, cuts, and discoloration from excessive bruises that seemed to have poorly healed. “I didn’t die from your poison because my body repelled it. I also am not employed by the crazed wanker. I was forced to work for him while he continuously tortured by body until there were scars. It should be impossible but my body could only take so much.”

Spy looked at the wounds which trailed down into his pants. He had never seen the man naked, mostly because Medic never took a shower when the other Mercenaries were present. Whenever he caught him, Medic was dressed with something that covered everything below his neck. “…how iz it zat your body repelled ze poison? Zat’s impossible.”

“…for a Spy, you’re not really well informed.” Medic chuckled in slight amusement before beginning to button his shirt up, “…I have Australium Radiation Poisoning. It won’t let me die in peace. It keeps healing me and the only thing that shows me that I have been… _regenerating_ a lot is my white hairs. I think that by the end of it, when my hair is all white, it is the only thing that will make me look my age, since I am ninety-seven years old.”

After two years of physically bullying Medic due to his wrong resource, Spy didn’t really know how to apologize to the man. It also didn’t help that he was fed an immense amount of _information_ which seemed unrealistic. Spy did realize that Medic’s wounds healed up rather fast. At first he thought that it was the use of the Medi Gun, but there were times when the man would be beaten and bruised and an hour later without having to go near the med-bay, was all healed up. Of course, this was something only Spy noticed because he was the one who brought the wound upon him.

“Docteur, do you expect me to believe everyzing you just told me?”

“Do you have your Ambassador?”

“Oui, why--?”

“Shoot me.”

Spy drew out the Ambassador and aimed at Medic’s head, “…don’t you go filing a report on me now, Docteur.”

“WAIT—“ The gun fired and Medic fell onto the floor, the blood pooled as Spy stood still. If spawn picked him up then thankfully Spy would be here to greet him. Spawn was only down this walkway, so Spy kept his eyes upon the spawn door.

“We are going to have a hard time cleaning this up, Spy.”

Spy’s eyes widened when he heard Medic’s voice close. Close enough that he must have been where he had just _died_. He looked down to see Medic now placing his hand over his forehead. The only way you could tell that there was blood in his jet black hair was due to the scattered strands of white hair. Medic took off his coat and began to wipe the blood so that the other mercenaries wouldn’t find this as _suspicious_.

“It’s true…”

Medic cleaned the blood as much as he could and began to fold his coat to cover it up with the layers. He took a stand and looked at Spy, “…don’t tell anyone. This is between the both of us. No one else can know about this.” Medic lied to Spy, but he wasn’t about to have everyone involved in his current mission to be jeopardized by this. _Just because Medic was being bullied by Spy_.

“…Spy, do I have your words?”

The look on Spy’s face was almost empty. It was as though that everything in the man’s mind was currently being erased and rewritten. Medic hadn’t gotten an apology from the two years of bullying, but if it meant that Spy was going to keep this as a secret, then that was worth more than an apology.

“Oui, Docteur, you have my word.”

Medic didn’t know why but the look on Spy’s face changed in a way that dumbfounded him. He couldn’t read it, but all that mattered now was that the bullying was going to stop and that Spy was going to keep his words.

…

Scout stood quietly behind the closed door which led to spawn. He had heard Spy and Medic talking and decided to eavesdrop. He opened his mouth to make a noise from everything he had heard, but nothing came out. Instead, he swallowed hard and nodded when Medic asked Spy if he had his words. He then slowly backed up and ran back to his room with the newly learned information.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I still don't know what people thinks about this fanfic. I'm at the point where I'm about to not care and just keep this fanfic up to date because it's what my mind has been focusing on as of late. This fanfic and a few of the one-shots. I also still haven't had my cup of coffee. I might walk to the store tomorrow and get some coarse grounds--or just beans. I believe the BF forgot to order the coffee grinder...urgh...why you gotta always push shit man, why you always gotta push shit and not do it right then and there? Are all men like this? Ugh, if so, I'm never writing them like this. Oh this humorless rant.


	4. You Mess With The Texan, You Get The Gunslinger

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While Spy thinks about what had gone down with Medic the night before, Engineer visits him to give him a hand; meanwhile, Medic gets a visit from Ms. Pauling and finds out something about his past assassinations.

The morning came with an alarming voice of the Administrator. The blizzard in Coldfront had taken the turn for the worse and that meant the match for the day was cancelled. Spy lied on his bed in silence. Normally his routine consisted of waking up early for a stroll through the base then going for coffee with a plate of breakfast. This morning was different as so was the night before. He had found out that Medic _didn’t_ work for the man who had left his body scarred for life. In fact, that man had excessive amount of scars compared to his own. In a way, they were the same. _In a way, we are both victims to Gray Mann, and he is our number one enemy._

“…”

Spy’s eyes were fixed upon the mirror paneled ceiling as he had been for the last couple hours. He had gotten no sleep due to falling into a deep trance. After Medic went back to his med-bay, Spy went back to his room and spent the night drinking. He had realized that his source was wrong, most likely by now they were long gone. He couldn’t believe that he was tricked, but that wasn’t the big thing to everything that had just happened. The fact that he had hated Medic for the last two years for a fact that turned out to be false made Spy felt empty. He had spent majority of the years tormenting Medic, but now what? The logical thing was to apologize and fill the hole with something else, but with his pride up in the high air, he didn’t know that if he could come to do such a thing. _Apologizing_ , how weak.

The trail of mind that Spy had quickly turned to smoke as he heard a knock upon his door.

“Spy? It’s me, Engie, wanted to know if you were in there?”

“Yes, I am.”

Spy looked at the door before doing a double take of his reflection upon the ceiling. His tie was disheveled and the clothes he was wearing were all from the night before. He was a grade A mess.

“One moment, laborer—“

Engineer didn’t wait for an answer and entered. Spy hated his carelessness from the night before; his mind must have been in space if he didn’t even lock the door. He turned cautiously to look at Engineer who now had walked to the center of the room to take a glance of his surroundings.

“Please, come in.” Spy muttered under his breath, frowning on how rude Engineer was.

“So, the Doc came up to me this morning. We talked and told me something that he might have shared with you.”

Engineer was still looking around, studying everything around him. His gloved hands were planted into the pockets of his overalls as his goggled eyes were now staring up at the ceiling, “…he told me that he told you, no one else knew about it; however, I don’t trust snakes.”

“Wait, are we talking about ze Medic’s radiation condition--?”

Engineer snapped and pointed at Spy, his eyes still fixed upon the mirror upon the ceiling. Spy was sure that he had every inch of this room in full view.

“ _Bingo_.”

“What about it?”

“I’m here to make a friendly _advice_ , that’s all.”

The way that Engineer wasn’t looking at Spy made this conversation rather uncomfortable, but Spy felt that the smart thing to do was to keep his distance. It didn’t help that he offered to give him a _friendly advice_.

“…well, please do share your advice.”

“It would be smart for you to keep this information strictly between you and me. Medic isn’t a fool; he won’t bring this subject on his own unless he’s forced to, which is basically what you did. If you have questions about it, you don’t ask him, you ask me. If you want to even talk about it, you don’t talk to him, you talk to me. You don’t ask Medic, anything about his condition.”

“How did he become what he is today?”

“I don’t know.”

Spy’s eyes narrowed when he realized where Engineer was going with this.

“Do you know anything else about Medic’s condition?”

“Not one bit, Partner.”

Engineer broke away from staring up at the ceiling mirror and gave the Spy one of his famous _domination_ smile. A smile he only had on his face whenever he was dominating an enemy mercenary.

_So that is how Engineer was going to play this._

…

Medic was never the type who was able to hold anything hidden for so long. It was one of the reasons why that the allies found the lab he worked in faster than the others. _He_ had sent a mail to the allies of the axis power. He also was at fault of getting many of the Nazi officers arrested. To him as long as it wasn’t about himself, everything else was an open book for anyone to read.

So when he approached Engineer and told him what had happened the night before, he couldn’t help but feel his stomach drop. Engineer wasn’t taking this too well as he had told him that this was trouble, and that he didn’t believe Spy. Medic reassured Engineer that he trusted Spy, but the man didn’t agree. When Engineer went out to get some _business_ handled, Medic went back to his med-bay where he was found looking at someone he hadn’t seen in nearly two years.

“Ms. Pauling…”

It was involuntarily happening, but a smile was upon Medic’s face when he saw that it was Ms. Pauling. He quickly closed the door to his med-bay, watching her as she ended her call on her portable phone.

“Medic! I’m glad you’re fitting right in. I was planning to do a check-up on you about a year ago, but then there were complications so I couldn’t.”

Her hair was neat as her fashion. She was all about business and it was that about her that made Medic more and more enamored by her. He might have not met her as much, but--

“Well, you did call me four times in the last two years, that’s more than enough on checking up on a bloke like me.” Medic’s ears began to redden as he quickly swallowed to approach her and taking a seat behind his desk, “I mean what I meant to say was that I believe you called me four times, I could be wrong…” He then offered Ms. Pauling the seat across from him, “Seat?”

She let out a giggle of amusement before taking a seat, placing the briefcase that didn’t catch Medic’s eye until it was set down next to her, “Well Medic, I wanted to let you know that the study is going very well on our end. I’ll give you more files about the Australium, but before that, I wanted to know if anyone else knows of your conditions?”

If timing couldn’t be any more despicable, Medic couldn’t help but to let out a sigh and spill out the beans to Ms. Pauling. He told her how he was being bullied and that he found out the reason causing it, and in order to prove himself of not being a mole in the base, he had told everything about his assassinations and conditions to Spy.

“But Engineer told me that he was going to handle it, so I guess everything will be fine.”

“Wait, are you telling me that you don’t know who the assassin that got a headshot on you through the air vents is?”

“Pardon?”

Ms. Pauling’s face paused as she then licked her lips and cleared her throat.

“The man who did the air vents headshot. It’s Sniper. Your BLU Sniper. I thought by now, you guys would have talked about it. Do you guys not talk?”

Medic was at a loss for words. It could explain as to why the man wasn’t conversing with him, but that left more doors open. Who had hired him and Spy? He didn’t ask Spy before, but now that Sniper was involved in one of his assassinations, he wanted to know. No, he _needed_ to know such personal information.

“No. We do.”

“Great! As for Spy, I’m sure that Engineer will talk to him about it, and…”

She picked up the briefcase and placed it upon the table, giving it a pat upon it to signal Medic that this was for him.

“ _This_ is for you. The folders marked in red are yours and the rest are for both you and Engineer.”

Medic was curious as to what the file was, but when he reached to open the briefcase, Ms. Pauling placed her hand over his, “Wait, I think it’s best if you saw it in your own private time. This is a big breakthrough for your gene splicing research.”

Gene splicing was a research he picked up as a student up to the current moment. The Administrator wasn’t going to fund it and it was something only _he_ was personally working on. “…how” His breath hitched from the anticipation and the fact that Ms. Pauling’s hand was upon his own, “…is the Administrator helping me?”

“No, she’s not. I just thought that since you’re going to be busy with her assignments and the battles that you won’t have time for your own little studies. I had to break a couple legs, but I found some spare time and got several of researches connected to your own. Maybe with this, you’ll be able to make the perfect half wife and half horse creation.” Ms. Pauling gave him a smile before shaking her head, “And that last part was a joke, whatever you do with these information is up to you.”

Medic’s hand reached up and held Ms. Pauling’s, giving it a squeeze before giving her a smile, “Thank you. Thank you very much. This means very much to me. I wish that there was something I could do to repay you--”

“It’s fine. You’re already doing tons of work, and Medic?”

“Yes?”

“If you ever need to talk or anything, don’t hesitate to call me. I mean—I’ll be busy but I’ll make some time to get back to you.”

Medic’s face flushed bright red as he nodded, he felt like a grade school student as he shook her hand, “Of course! I will…I will most definitely do that! I will do that yes!”

“And also, Medic?”

“Yes?”

“At this rate, you’re going to pop my shoulder.”

Medic’s happiness was exaggerated that he had shaken Ms. Pauling’s hand rather vigorously. He quickly freed her hand and placed his hands deep into his pockets, “Forgive me. I was just too excited about—well everything that has happened today. If it wasn’t for you Ms. Pauling, I don’t think that today would have gotten better.”

Ms. Pauling gave him a wink and took a stand, “Well, anything for a valuable Mercenary! I have to go, and please give Engineer the proper files.”

Medic took a stand and quickly made his way to the door and opened it as he had done during his young years. He was a gentleman back then, and still was at heart, “I will be looking forward to our next meeting.”

“Me too.” Ms. Pauling gave Medic one last smile before exiting his med-bay. He could have walked with her, but there was something else that had to be done. _Sniper_.

…

“Laborer, your friendly advice is telling me to never talk of this.”

“Bingo.”

Spy was irritated by this but when Engineer took a step towards him, he couldn’t help but to feel his heart stop. It wasn’t that he _feared_ him, but because he knew what the man was capable of doing. When Engineer began to approach him, Spy took in a sharp inhale, “I will keep zis between ze two of us under one condition.”

“Condition? Boy, you don’t understand. There is _no_ condition—“

“Ze condition will be zat when Gray Mann begins for his strike on kidnapping ze Medic, which I promise you will happen soon, you will tell me everyzing.”

“What are you getting at you snake?”

“Zat I know of Gray Mann’s plan on taking ze Medic back. Which is why I believe zat ze Medic was working for ze crazed man.”

“…how about this. You tell me everything you know about Gray Mann’s plans…and I promise to not kill you or make the rest of your sad contracted employment life a living Hell.”

Engineer’s glove was off and his Gunslinger was now pressed flat upon Spy’s stomach. He strengthened the pressure upon it while keeping his eyes upon Spy’s face, “You got that? Boy?”

“…of course.”

“Now talk.”

…

“Argh…”

Medic had searched throughout the base in the search of Sniper. He was sure that he heard the other mercenaries were talking of how it was rare for the man to spend the night in the base. So where was he? He wasn’t in his room, kitchen, restroom, bathroom, gym, he was anywhere but the base.

When Medic glanced over out the window, he could see that the blizzard was whiting out everything in Coldfront. If Sniper was anywhere, it must have been the Camper.

“This just may be…the second most idiotic thing I have ever done in my life…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know what to really type here but to reveal the fact that the whole Ms. Pauling and Medic ship tag I am using is purely for how it is implied. I wanted to just share that I won't be heavily pushing for that ship for there are other ships this fanfic is heading towards. Thank you. The mic has indeed been dropped. Yup. We ran out of milk again, how is this possible?!


	5. I Walked Through The Blizzard to Talk to You And You Killed Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It was a long walk to Sniper's Camper, especially with the white out blizzard; however, when Medic gets there, he realizes that he has the worst timing in the world. No matter how bad the timing is, it doesn't stop him from asking the question he had come to ask for, but first, as always, death is inevitable for Medic.

When Medic grabbed his Merc’s Muffler amongst other BLU assigned winter attires, he wanted to make sure that Sniper was indeed not _in_ the base. So when he saw Soldier, he couldn’t help but to ask him before he went out into the blizzard, “Soldier, have you seen Sniper?”

“How would I know? Maggot.”

As Soldier walked away, Medic glanced over at the doorway to where Sniper’s Camper was parked. It wasn’t too far, but that parking lot was big enough for him be very cautious as to where he was heading. If he wasn’t, he was obviously going to be lost in the blizzard.

“Dying in the blizzard? That would be new…”

Medic only muttered to himself before opening the door and closing it behind him. The parking lot was completely white; everything in front of him was white. It looked as though that the world he was seeing was just painted over with a fresh coat of whiteout. He was mesmerized only for a moment before the wind began to pinch at his cheeks. He fixed his Merc’s Muffler and cautiously began to make his way towards a small bit of light before him. _Half praying that it really was **the light**_.  
…

Sniper had come to sleep in the base for one reason. He and Spy had an on and off relationship going to the point that it frustrated the two. They were fighting too much that they settled for a fuck buddy status. So when Spy turned him away the night before, he stayed in his room, frustrated. When the morning came, he ignored the blizzard warning and went back to his camper where privacy was something he owned.

His fingers were wrapped around his stiffen cock, slowly motioning his hand while keeping his eyes shut. He imagined it was Spy, teasing him as he sometimes did. It annoyed him at times but at other times it got the job done of getting him to the point of orgasm on the level of satisfaction. His breath shook as he began to pick up the pace, his body trembling upon each stroke. “Nmmg…hn…”

Then there was a light knock.

“Huh…?” Sniper’s eyes slowly opened as he brought his hand to a pause. He held his breath before passing the knocking as the wind and closed his eyes again to regain the focus that was literally slipping away.

Then another knock was heard, this time a bit louder than before, and then…

“Sniper? Are…Are you there? Argh…please be there…”

Sniper wasn’t familiar with the voice to the point, but he knew who it was. He just wasn’t familiar to it due to the lack of conversing with the man behind the voice; however, Sniper wasn’t a monster to leave the man out in this blizzard. He _did_ come out this far out to see him.

“Just a moment, mate.” Sniper grabbed his thick comforter and placed it around the naked half of his body. He knew that the erection would still be noticeable, but it was eventually going to subside. He was disappointed and frustrated, but dying of cold would be miserable. He then fixed his collar and rolled sleeves before carefully making his way towards the door and opening the door. He didn’t say a word but instead reached out and took a hold of the Medic’s coat. Medic was forced inside the camper without a second to think and eventually found himself in the warmth of a well insulated camper.

Medic spent a couple seconds try to recollect himself and situating himself into his surroundings as he was self-trained to do while under Gray Mann’s _custody_. The camper was small, but big enough for one or two people to live their life on the road. There was a bed like structure at the end and the rest of the sides were built with cabinets, countertops, and table for eating and other household activities.

“Nng…what do you want.”

Sniper walked back to the bed, taking a seat at the edge while doing his best to cover his erection. He was hoping that either Medic or the erection itself was going to go away in the next few minutes, himself wishing that it was the earlier than the latter.

Medic watched the sheet covered lower half and the rather ruffled up red shirt upon Sniper. It was rare to see the man without his hat, but observing him, he had realized that he had bothered him at a rather inconvenient time; however, this wasn’t going to stop him from having a talk with the man. Medic was professional, and he was sure that Sniper too was professional.

“I wanted to ask you if you were ever hired to assassinate someone in a locked prison cell. No windows or open visuals offered, only air vents.”

Medic stood in front of the door, the scarf still on along with his other snow attires. He watched Sniper as the man sat in silence. The aviator always did the job on covering Sniper’s eyes and it made the man disgustingly unreadable. So when the room suddenly filled with sound of the blizzard, Medic realized that he should have told someone of his whereabouts.

“W’ot’s this information got to do with you?”

“Because I’m the one you were sent out to assassinate.”

“No, that bloke is dead. I watched him die and he is why I was hired to work here.”

“You and I both know that isn’t true.”

“W’ot are you blabberin’ on about now you bloody wanker--?”

“That, your prized killing shot wasn’t a _killing_ shot.”

“Bug off.”

“You know just as well as I do that the reason why you aren’t talking to me and childishly avoiding me for the last two years is because I’m a walking reminder that you best killing shot turned out to be a failure! ADMIT I--”

Sniper was a professional assassin; he was the only man who kept a rather leveled head in the team. This was all from what he had gotten from observing the man from a far, so when Medic saw Sniper lunge onto him and knock him flat onto the floor, he was speechless. _Literally speechless_.

“Wa--…AGH!!” While Sniper had lunged onto him, Medic’s head had clashed onto the corner of a counter behind him, _killing_ him in an instant. The blood slowly began to pool under Medic’s head and onto the floor, making Sniper pause.

“Shit…”

Sniper reached down and placed his hand against Medic’s neck pulse, making sure that he was dead. When he didn’t feel a pulse, he confirmed that he was dead from the blow. Sniper was calm due to the fact that he knew Medic was going to be picked up by respawn. He then slowly straddled over Medic’s waist, the sheet now dangerously loose around his treasure trail and midway down his buttocks. He quickly took the Merc’s Muffler off of him and carefully placed it under his head so that the blood would stop. It didn’t help the blood but Sniper was only trying to stop the blood from spreading further throughout his camper.

He licked his dried lip for a moment as he looked at the man under him. Medic was cold and lifeless and here he was, having the desire to see if he could get something out of this before the body disappeared. His hand, however, reached up to hover over Medic’s head. His memories were sharp, and he remembered where his _trophy_ shot was placed. The right side. His hand reached down and pressed against the man’s head, searching for a scar of sort. _Nothing_.

“…Sniper…”

His hand quickly drew back as he heard Medic’s whisper. He stood up and gave the man his space believing that maybe the blow to the head didn’t kill him—but wait--

“You were dead.”

Medic’s eyes fluttered open as he placed his hand over the back of his head. The wound wasn’t severe enough for his healing process to last long, but he was technically _dead_ for short time for the base respawn to not pick him up. Earlier this morning, when he had told Engineer that Spy had put a bullet into his brain with his request, and that the respawn didn’t pick him up, it was explained to him that his regeneration was still _technically_ fast enough that the base’s respawn wasn’t able to pick him up.

“Yes, I was—“

“…so you are him.”

Sniper’s voice was almost a whisper as he then took a seat back onto the edge of his bed. The time seemed to have stilled when Medic realized that Sniper was disheartened. The doubts this man before him had built was crushed down into reality, and it was his fault.

“Sniper, I’m sorry.”

“When I first saw your face, blood…just ran cold. I thought—I thought that I was dreaming. I thought—that somehow you had come to haunt me for killing you. It’s a nightmare for an assassin…you were supposed to stay dead and yet—here you are…”

The memory of how they first met was indeed a cold one. It wasn’t something worth remembering, but now that everything was coming together, Medic couldn’t help but to reach out. He approached Sniper and took a seat next to him, straightening up his back as he looked up at the ceiling. It wasn’t because the ceiling had anything interesting, but because he didn’t want to look at a man who was maybe trying to get their erection to _cool down_.

“The more I saw you, the more I realized that I failed…the shot that got me this job. The shot that defined the very moment of my—career…you were the eraser to it all. I didn’t want to bloody talk to you or even see you because I knew that if I did—then w’ot I feared would be true. My most prized job would have been a failure.”

“What do you mean, when you say that you got this job because of—the assassination?”

“My employers at the time hired me to assassinate you. I got paid and then was recommended by Ms. Pauling to work for the BLU.”

“Oh…if it makes you feel better…you were the only assassin who was successful at killing me.”

Sniper didn’t move, it was obvious that he wasn’t amused by this reality,

“…I didn’t want to have these types of—poisoning. I wanted to die at my brother’s side in the First World War, but look at me. I’m still here and people are still after me.”

“I knew you were bloody special when they put a large sum on your head…”

“Really? How much?”

“1.5 Million American dollars.”

“Wow…”

It was obvious that Sniper, unlike the Spy, was able to put two and two together. He could also have been the first of the mercenaries, besides Engineer, to figure something about Medic before it was explained to him; however, now that Medic had gotten the answer he wanted, he didn’t really know what else to talk about. The main question was answered: Sniper was hired by a third party to kill him, and it could have been the same third party that had hired Spy; but regardless of the answers, he wasn’t too fond of going back out into the blizzard again just to get back into the base. He wanted to stay in the warmth a little while longer.

“Snip—"

Medic’s word fell short when he felt Sniper’s head resting against his shoulder. The man must have been mentally exhausted from the fact that his denial was indeed the reality he feared to check, that and the obvious erection still hiding under the sheet.

“I’m not making you feel any better…”

“No mate…you’re not.”

“Should I leave you alone?”

“No.”

…

 **Year** : _1960 [ 7 years ago ]_

 **Month** : _Unknown_

 **Location** : _Unknown_

“Please…for fuck sakes…no more…”

“Don’t be such a cry baby.”

Nikolaus had gone through endless torture ever since he was taken in by Gray Mann. There were tortures that were short but continuous, such as putting a bullet through his head and then once he regenerated, having it repeat. Then there were tortures that leveled from where Nikolaus had to let his own mind and body go so that he couldn’t feel anymore, to where he was constantly humiliated. He was sure that not all form of the torture was beneficial to Gray Mann’s research on immortality, but his tormentors were greatly enjoying it.

“…please…”

Nikolaus’s finger tips twitched involuntarily from the fear of getting hurt. He had been whipped, burned, cut, stabbed, sodomized, and the mental list went on. The rope burns were imprinted into his wrist now, his knees were numb from being constantly planted onto the cold floor, and his bare naked body was dressed in fresh deep cuts and burns from the branding iron brought on by his tormentor.

“…I…just…want to fucking sleep…you…basket case—AGHH—SHIT—“

The man took a hold of a rusted pipe and pressed it against his anus, forcing it in until it poked at the soft muscles protecting the innards.

“You sleep when I want you to fucking sleep, now shut up and stop whining like a brat. Gray Mann hired me to prepare you for your new job. You’re going to be working for the dumbasses who took over after me and my friends retired…”

The rusted pipe sharply exited and quickly filled him back. He could feel his anal canals tearing from the small sharp edges, but he knew that it would heal up. _He dreaded the fact that it would heal up_. Nikolaus felt trails of blood mixed with saliva trickle down the edge of his lip, his eyes fixed upon the floor and hands rolled into a fist from the pain,

“I’m just trying to help you for all the scenarios you may or may not face there…I mean, when I worked there, I had some quick fun with the Medic that worked with us. He and I worked so much in the field that it was basically a nightly routine. I’m sure you and the new Heavy Weapons Mercenary will have some fun too.”

The Ex-Heavy mercenary poked deep into Nikolaus’s prostate before leaving the pipe in place and coming up to see him face to face. He grabbed a handful of his hair and looked into those lively eyes, “Might even not be him, might be some other mercenary wanting that prideful eyes of yours to be dirt shit miserable.”

“I’m quite happy…with my taste in women…thank you very much…”

Ex-Heavy gave him a grin before ambushing his lips with his own. He forced his tongue into his mouth, and with Nikolaus being weak and scared to bite back, he almost choked upon how the man’s tongue was now invading his breathing space. As the kiss broke off, Nikolaus felt the man bite his lower lip, tugging and sinking his teeth in for blood. When blood was drawn, he freed him and gave it a lick for taste, “…you don’t have to be gay to have sex with men…I did it just to fucking see you beg for help…getting your face deep into to the dirt and blood. I get off on your fallen self. It makes me and my buddy here…” He took a hold of his own crotch to indicate his clothed cock, “…really fucking happy to see you in pain and humiliation. I never liked people like you…always looking high and mighty as though you are better than everyone else.”

Nikolaus’s eyes met with Ex-Heavy’s. The grin upon the man’s face was enough to make his heart sink to the deepest part of his stomach. The mental image of that didn’t help due to the fact that there was a rusted pipe still in his anal canal and with the knowledge of how the torture itself was far from over.

“Men like you always look best, on your knees and being fucked until you can’t stand anymore…hope you’re ready to choke on my cum again, because I’m going to fuck you from both ends like I’m trying to get you pregnant…maybe you should work on that Doc, trying to make it possible for you to get pregnant with my child. Now _that_ would be something I’d love to see…a proud little shit like you being somehow pregnant with my child…”

Ex-Heavy parted his lips and jaw with his hand, molesting the tongue with that big thumb. As he assaulted Nikolaus’s tongue, his free hand began to unbuckle the belt and unzip the pants to free his now throbbing erected cock at the entrance of the forcefully parted mouth. “Open wider and remember, don’t bite. You don’t want what happened last time to happen again now, do you?”

 _Yes, the torture was indeed **far** from over_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am sorry this took awhile, I also saw some stupid mistakes on "Gray". I found out I typed "Grey" instead because I was thinking the British spelling. I really wish people pointed this out to me, it was a terrible mistake. Thankfully, I fixed it all. Yay. Oh and I got a new coffee grinder, double yay. Coffee. French press. Life is good. Still, mother refuses to talk to me. Oh life. You are terrible. Chapter six is coming up, I hope you guys enjoy this. Also, for those who didn't realize, I am still adding tags and I even just added a /rape; non-con/ tag due to this chapter. I hope I don't lose the very few readers I have already. Ciao bella gente. I'm going to bed. 
> 
> PS: I also got rid of the F/M tag because I realize--it's one-sided attraction and that ship isn't happening in this fanfic.


	6. This Situation Could Have Been Avoided If Spy Didn't Give Sniper Blue Balls

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Spy and Engineer discusses about Medic while Sniper sees a new side of Medic. A side of Medic he felt that he wouldn't have seen if he didn't give into his urges.

**Year** : _1967 [ Present ]_

**Month** : _Unknown_

**Location** : _Spy’s room_

“So you’re saying that there’s a mole in this team…”

Spy was sitting on his drinking chair by the window, relived from being free of the Engineer’s Gunslinger flushed against his stomach, “…yes. I am sure about zat, and zat mole is how zhey will get ze Medic.”

The room was silent and dimly lit by the dying fire in the fireplace. Engineer stood in front of it and picked at the fire with the steel poker, “…that’s something I can’t let happen. The man—can’t go back to Gray.” Engineer couldn’t imagine having the man go back to living the way he had been. Medic didn’t share much of his time with Gray, but he had been informed by Ms. Pauling of his tortures.

“I told you my secret, maybe if you shared yours zen I can be of some assistance?”

Engineer was reluctant to share with Spy, but if there was a mole then it was best to keep the number one suspect close to him. If anyone in the base could have been a mole, it was Spy. There were other candidates, but knowing that Spy was one of the assassins sent after Medic before, it was best to keep him close.

“The man had it tough under Gray’s grasp. He was ripped apart, chained up, cut up, burnt, if you can think of a way a man can die in a non-natural way then he has gone through it.”

A heavy sigh escaped Engineer’s mouth as he leaned against the brick wall by the fire place, his arms crossed as he looked at Spy, “The man wasn’t only killed constantly, but he was mentally and physically tortured by some of the classic mercenaries…from what I know, their Heavy had a tight grip around him. The records show that he did a real number on him to the point where Medic was almost mentally broken into. Thankfully, I think the man’s doing well. Don’t you think?”

Spy didn’t know if Engineer had ever seen what he saw, but their Medic was very much accustomed to abuse. He never fought back when Spy had beaten him and never cried out for help. Medic never did anything until he realized that he was going to be found out; it was as if he wanted to keep everything from getting out of hand. It was as if he wanted everything bottled up.

“…yes, he is indeed doing well for a man who has gone zrough such…condition.”

“You know, he’s also a rape victim.”

Spy’s eyes glistened from the word, watching Engineer with his watchful eyes.

“I didn’t hear much about it, but getting sodomized by a well heated iron bar seems a bit rough, don’t you think?” Engineer’s goggles fixed upon Spy, it was as if the man was warning him about something. Did the Engineer think that he was going to approach Medic for some sexual favors?

“Zat sounds quite painful…”

“Cut the shit, Spy. You and I both know where I’m goin’ with this. If you ever touch Medic in any way or form, I will make sure to skin you with my bare hands.”

The protective and stern tone made Spy raise his own voice to speak up. He wasn’t about to harm a man who too was a victim towards Gray’s torture, but a knock upon his door made his mouth close. The knock on the door repeated as Spy kept his eyes upon Engineer. He took a stand and approached the door as the knocks became rapid and obnoxious.

“What is it, you imbecile?”

The door opened to show Scout who looked rather lost, “Yo, you’ve seen Doc anywhere? No one knows where he is…and since you and he were out together last night uh—“

“Shit.” Was all Spy heard before being pushed aside and watching Engineer run down the hallway. He then turned to look at Scout again. The boy looked worried about Medic as he always did whenever the man’s whereabouts were unknown. “Why do you care about ze Medic so much?”

Scout’s eyes had followed Engineer, but quickly came back upon Spy’s question, “None of your god damned business!” Spy couldn’t get a word in before watching the boy run off, leaving him all alone at the entrance of his room. Before he closed his door, he caught a glimpse of Sniper’s room. _Oh yes, him._ As he began to close the door, he realized where Medic might have been.

“Oh merde…”

**Year** : _1967 [ Present ]_

**Month** : _Unknown_

**Location** : _Sniper’s Camper_

Everything in Sniper’s camper looked as though that it had ridden in a tornado. Cabinets were knocked opened with canned food inside now on the floor. Porn magazines were scattered across the room along with a few of pieces of broken glasses. The barely dried up blood was now mixed with cold coffee which was also splattered across the camper from the windows, ceilings, and floor.

The two men were breathless and while Sniper sat upon one edge of the bed trying to get himself back into his underwear and pants, Medic was in the other corner, fully dressed while shaking and hugging his knees. It was the side of the man Sniper had never seen before.

…

Sniper slipped his hand down and cupped a hold of Medic’s crotch while his lip trailed up to place a kiss upon the crook of Medic’s neck. This must have triggered something within the man, for it was then when he pushed Sniper off and away from him. While Sniper found himself knocked against his cabinets, dropping canned food and hidden porn magazines onto the floor, Medic reached the nearest object and threw it across the room. Thankfully, the man wasn’t much of a marksman. The cup of cold coffee instead puked its coffee all around Sniper and the camper before turning into millions of pieces upon impact onto the camper’s floor.

“Mate—wait--!”

With the help of the cold coffee, the porn magazines upon the floor were soaked. As Sniper took a step forward upon them, he slipped and fell face first into his not so soft futon. If the rejection wasn’t enough to kill his erection, the pain on his face was.

…

“…sorry.”

Medic whispered as he hands continued to shake. The wounds from the Classic Heavy had healed, but the touches were something he couldn’t think having upon his body. He wasn’t homosexual; he had gotten married to a once beautiful woman during the war. This didn’t change the fact that his body was turned on whenever someone touched him, this was natural; however, Medic could not accept it from the _trauma_.

“…s’alright mate…you’re not into this shit. Not your fault.”

After clothing himself, Sniper kept himself situated far from Medic. He wasn’t oblivious when it came to Medic’s reaction. The man was obviously not interested in men and was disgusted by any sorts of homosexual innuendos. If a mere feel and a kiss upon the crook of the neck was enough to send his camper into a whirlwind of mess, he feared what would have happened if he kept pushing himself upon the man.

“So I—“

“I’m going back to the med bay. Everything is cleared up now and there is…no reason for me to be here.”

Medic took a stand, his breath still shaky from the physical outburst. His hand reached out to support himself up, only to fall back to sit at the edge of the futon. The blizzard was strong outside, it could be felt from how shaky the camper had become. As the man then slowly took in a gasp of breath, he felt a tap upon his shoulder. It was gentle and cautious; yet, it was enough to have the shaken man to flinch harshly.

“F-Forgive me…I—“

“I won’t touch you and I won’t force you to stay, but I don’t think that it’s a good idea for you to go out there in your current situation.”

The camper then swayed from the sudden gust of wind, almost as though that it was reminding them of the storm outside. Sniper gave out a heavy sigh and took a stand, walking over to the shattered remains of his mug. After what had just occurred, he wouldn’t have been surprised to see the Medic walk out into the storm.

“Thank you.”

Sniper’s ears perked as he glanced over at the sudden break in silence. When his eyes landed upon his bed Medic was still in the corner, his head buried against his knees. There were questions in Sniper’s mind, but he didn’t need the answers. He realized it was the least he could do for the two year long silent treatment he had given the man.

…

**Time** : Hour After

**Location** : Sniper’s Camper

“SNIPER!”

There were knocks after, Spy slammed each knock in to make sure that the man inside could hear. The door, however, opened quickly after the first two knocks. Sniper stood there without his usual signature sunglasses, wearing his BLU shirt without the vest, and those boring uniform pants of his to go along with the attire. “Well, well. Interested tonight, are we?”

Spy’s lips pressed in irritation while his ears began to heat up. He brushed off the tasteless question and made his way into the camper, “Grow up.”

“Wouldn’t have mattered, I can’t get off when there’s a non-participating third party in the room.”

The statement was enough for Spy to rush up into the camper. Once inside, he looked around briefly before finding what he had come in search for. There laid Medic, sleeping upon Sniper’s bed. The man’s back was towards him, but he knew from the peppered hair and form to know it was him.

“Don’t think he’ll find you to be his _cup of tea_.”

Sniper commented as he closed the door to his camper. Spy’s ears perked as he then slowly began to reexamine the room. There were stains upon the ragged curtains. Wet porn magazines were hanging up on multiple cloth hangers to be dried of whatever it had come in contact with. The camper told a story, and it made Spy shake his head in slight shame. It wasn’t of disappointment, but may just a hint of it.

“W’ot.”

“We need to talk. About ze Medic.”

Sniper reached over to lock the door as he felt his eyes bored into Spy.

Spy knew that the Engineer had told him not to share about the mole, but due to the fact that the Sniper too had been a past Assassin towards Medic, he figured that he had to know.

Medic was still asleep.

_At least, that’s how it seemed from the viewpoint of Sniper and Spy_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It has been quite some time (3 months) since I updated this fanfic (along with "Without You, Without Me"). I am in the process of working on the seventh chapter, but first I would like to thank you for reading this and keeping up with it. You. Are. Literally. Awesome. And. I. Am. Not. Worth. Shit.
> 
> Secondly, I recently got a part-time job at GameStop; meanwhile, on my main plate of life, am about to embark on a journey to meet some of my life goals.
> 
> I will do my best to upload the chapters for both "Don't Play God With Him" and "Without You, Without Me". I'm sure a lot of people forgot about this fanfic but honestly, as I've posted and shared this many times before: I post this for myself so that I can read it without having the power to edit. It's painful. Trust me.
> 
> Conclusion: I hope those who are still keeping up with this fanfic enjoys it. You guys are literally the most beautiful and nicest people I know. To top all that off: most tolerant and patient for waiting and stuff. Stuff.


	7. I Don't Want to Drink So What? It Won't Kill Me. Right?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Medic remembers the conversation between Spy and Sniper. It has been couple weeks and yet he is lost in thought, then there is Scout. Drinking was never Medic's hobby, but that shouldn't be bad for him.

**Year** : _1890 (?)_

**Month** : _Unknown_

**Location** : _Somewhere in the United States of America_

“What is this…Australium?” Nikolaus sat upon a wooden chair and curiously looked at the new found elements sitting on the lab table before him. They looked like gold, but they weren’t. At least, from what his new _mentor_ was telling him. “I bet it’s just gold, it looks like gold.”

“Why don’t you shut your doggone yapper an’ just listen to me for once before I ship your spoiled ass back to _Bad Teeth Land_.”

Nikolaus felt his lips pressed shut from the threat, he hadn’t known his mentor for long, but he knew that the man would follow-up on his threats. _Radigan Conagher_ was his name. The man was old, but he wasn’t a mad cook as they said he would be. He was well collected and knew exactly what he was talking about. In conclusion: this man knew beyond the current human studies to be only _seen_ as mad.

“Good boy.” Radigan grumbled as he then went back to tinker with an unfamiliar machinery. A nerve tugged in Nikolaus’s head, but he didn’t say anything upon the _boy_ comment. He knew that this was all a test, and he wasn’t about to go back home with nothing.

“Now boy, I’m going to be honest with you.” The man finally turned away from his machinery and looked at the bored boy sitting before him, “I respect your bravery in coming to the United States of America to work under some unknown scientist that many in the scientific world deem to see as a mad man.”

“Mad Cook.”

“What you say, boy?”

“I just wanted to share that they call you a Mad Coo—“

“That was a rhetorical question. I told you to keep your yapper shut. You’ll be cleaning up my workshop tonight.”

Nikolaus gave out a groan, irritated by the fact that he wouldn’t be sleeping tonight. The workshop’s mess was too big and it would have taken more than a day to clean it.

“…you might be a talkative idiot, but I admire your spirit. Most people wouldn’t have dreamt of pursuing a goal in _gene-splicing_.”

The _compliment_ was enough for Nikolaus to glance over at his _mentor_. Many people back home had called him a fool for taking such a big leap for something so _empty_ ; however, maybe it was because one had to be _mad_ enough to see the possibilities of a fruitful future.

“Thank you…uh…shit that’s the first _nice_ thing you’ve said to me—“

“Boy…I didn’t say that you can talk. You’re bright, but you don’t have that comprehendin’ skills. You’ll also clean the kitchen.”

“Ugh…”

Nikolaus slouched over his chair from despair, not feeling even the slightest bit of remorse from his mentor. His eyes glanced up at the machinery that was being worked on, he then realized that he didn’t have a clue on what it was. _What was Radigan Conagher working on?_

“I know that I’m going to regret asking you this but…what are you currently working on? I’ve been with you for the last six months, and you’ve been working on the same thing.”

Silence. Finally, Nikolaus was able to finish a statement before it was cut off with another form of chore. The silence, however, was ominous to the point that the _answer_ came with a smile. “You’ll see soon enough. It’s going to change your world.”

From that statement, Nikolaus groaned and parted his lip to fix _your_ to _our_ world, but was yet again interrupted to clean up the outhouse. There was no point in arguing, but whatever the project was, it was going to be _big_ from the way it was answered.

…

**Year** : _1967 [ Present ]_

**Month** : _Unknown_

**Location** : _The Med-Bay_

The match ended with the BLU’s win; however, not everything was alright. It had been a week since Medic and the Sniper had the unfortunate incident. It also had been a week since he had heard Spy tell Sniper about a mole in the base, a mole who was working for Gray Mann. This churned something deep in his stomach. The taste in freedom, the thought of pursuing his goal of a perfect gene-spliced creation-- _he couldn’t let it happen_.

…

_It seems like you and I are ze only ones who knew ze Docteur before our hiring into ze BLU._

_Wouldn’t be shocked. We do come from a rather questionable occupation._

_So does ze Docteur._

_It doesn’t take a genius to figure that out._

_While our past won’t haunt us any time soon, ze Docteur won’t be as fortunate._

_W’ot are you saying._

_Zere is a Mole in ze BLU Team. Zey will be taking ze Docteur back to his original employer._

_Gray Mann._

_Correct._

_Does the Engineer know?_

_Oui._

_Does the Medic know?_

_Non._

_Best keep it that way. Don’t want all the trauma to get back inside his head._

_Forgive me if I wasn’t quick wiz my knowledge of ze Docteur being a rape victim. I didn’t zink of you to be so quick on your feet. Or razer your penis._

…

“Yo Doc, you alright?”

Medic’s attention came back from the netherworld upon hearing a familiar voice.

“Ah, Scout, what brings you here?”

Scout smiled nervously and pointed at Medic’s hand, the hand which had been steadily yet swiftly been drawing lemniscates upon his notebook. The symbol had been traced repeatedly enough for it to have gone through multiple pages.

“I’m guessin’ somethin’ in your mind?”

It wasn’t that Medic didn’t like Scout, it’s just that he didn’t find the boy close enough to really share anything that was going on with his life. His eyes glanced down onto the lemniscates and then slowly back up at Scout with a smile upon his face, “Nothing. So what brings you to my office today?”

Scout had the obvious look of disappointment when the Medic said _nothing_ , but that didn’t shake the boy’s smile when he was questioned for his presence, “Well Doc, I wanted to know if you were free tonight. Since the snow stopped and we won, the rest of the guys wanted to go celebrate at the bar in town. “

There was a slight pang in his heart when he realized that the only reason Scout had came in here was because none of the other mercenaries were willing to invite him. He knew that Engineer wouldn’t have approached him for the reason of the other mercenaries. “…I don’t think that would be a good idea. You and I both know that most of the lots out there aren’t fond of me.”

He began to collect his paper works and eyed the folder that was brought to him by Miss Pauling a week ago. _Forgot to give it to the Engineer_. He placed the folder under the rest and gave the Scout a smile, “Why don’t you and the others enjoy your night. I’ll catch up on some work I’ve missed.”

As he placed the folders over to his side of the table, he felt Scout’s hand over his own, “Come on Doc, everyone’s goin’. This is the first time everyone, besides ya, were willing to go to the bar. It wouldn’t be the BLU Team celebration without ya.”

Medic only smiled nervously, shaking his head and moving his hand away from Scout to place the contents in his hand over to the counter behind him. “Don’t worry about me. I am quite good with solitude; however, if you need a ride after the drinking…don’t hesitate to call me. I am fine with giving a group of drunks a ride back to the Base.”

“But Doc--!!”

“Scout. The answer is final. I won’t be joining you and our comrades tonight. If it would somehow make it better, you can drink my share for me.” Medic dug into his pocket and drew out his wallet, counting a several bills before handing it over to Scout, “This should be enough to cover a round.”

Defeated, Scout too the money and gave out a groan, “It would really be great to have you there Doc, but if ya don’t then, I can’t force ya.”

There was a pout upon Scout’s face, making Medic smile out of amusement, “Don’t give me that face, now why don’t you run off and drink responsibly?” The pout only lingered briefly for it was the last resort which seemed to have obviously failed. Scout only shook his head and gave a wave as he headed towards the door, “One of these days Doc, I’m gonna get ya to drink with the rest of us.”

“I will wish you luck with that.”

As Scout exited, Medic sat in silence, glancing back at the folder. It would have been best to look through the file first before handing over to the Engineer. He knew that once he gave it to the Texan, then he was going to have hard time catching up. It was best to be one step ahead so that he didn’t embarrass himself with needless questions.

While opening the folder, he heard Sniper’s camper starting. They must have been planning to take the camper there. He knew that if they were all going to be smashed drunk, he would indeed be summoned to aid them later into the night. At least while they were away, he could spend the base in silence.

Medic then realized that he couldn’t image himself away from the Base anytime soon, especially after hearing about the mole. If he were to be away from the watchful eyes of the Administrator, there was going to be higher risk of a Gray Mann ambush. Just the thought of it made the scars and old wounds ache throughout his body.

His eyes landed upon the folder’s content when a note stuck out. It was Miss Pauling’s handwriting, and it read the following:

_To Engineer: The cameras within Cold Front seem to be going through troubles. As much as we know that you are busy with your experiments with the Medic, the Administrator orders that they be fixed as soon as possible._

Medic’s eyes widened as he felt a sickening feeling spreading through his body and mind. There was a high possibility that the Administrator wasn’t able to see him as of this moment. This note was a week old, and Engineer had been swamped with the machine in his workshop. As of this very moment, Medic was alone in the Base with no one to see him.

“…I’m sure that…they can’t get through the security around here…even so…they’ll have to find me.”

It must have been paranoia, the mole and such. Paranoia was messing with his mind and he was sure that he was going to be fine as long as he was in the Base.

He then closed the file and made his way out of his office. There was a small piece of mind that may have had made Engineer stay back from the night’s trip to the bar, right? Keeping the hope in his mind, he made his way down the hall and towards Engineer’s room, only to hear a car approaching the Base. _Was it them? Did they come back? Maybe they left their wallet behind?_

Medic found himself running and approaching the nearest window to see a rather too familiar white van outside. From there, his worst nightmare began to creep upon him to evolve itself into reality. The van opened and there exited men in black. The same suited men who worked for Gray Mann.

“Fuck.”

The moment Medic turned away from the window, he found himself facing the all too familiar tall, muscular, and bulked body. _The man hadn’t lost his fitted shape_. It was the Ex-Heavy.

“Long time no see, Brat.”

The fear was gripping, and Medic felt his knees collapse below him. He wanted to run. He wanted to fight, but there was a switch in his mind which turned on the moment he saw the man. The folder in his hand slipped onto the floor as he found himself slowly breathing faster and faster from the reality smashing into his face. _The last two years was good while it lasted_.

“Oh ho, aren’t we a good boy.” The Ex-Heavy got down on one knee and reached out to grab a hold of the fear stricken Medic. “You miss me? Cuz, I sure missed your fucking ass, and mouth.” His goggled eyes glanced down to see the folder, picking it up before standing up and bringing the Medic’s now ragdoll like body over his shoulder, “I’m guessing that none of the birdies here got a taste of you, seeing as we found you.”

The color in Medic’s face was drained as he felt himself being carried down the hall. He didn’t know what the Ex-Heavy was talking, but it must have been the Mole. Without the Mole, how could they have found him?

“When I was training your fine ass, I suggested that we put a tracking device embedded deep in your anal canal. You were always fucking knocked out after a good fucking, it was a great chance.”

When he felt the Ex-Heavy’s hand reach up to take a handful off his clothed buttock, he couldn’t help but whimper. _He_ had aided in helping Gray Mann find him. _He_ was the Mole all along and he didn’t even know about it.

As the Ex-Heavy made his way back down the hallway from which Medic had come, he slowly found himself approaching the med-bay. The sound of the door opening was enough to make the Medic’s lips quiver. His fingers were shaking as they, like the rest of his body, swayed powerlessly around from the movements.

“Nice office. My Medic liked having his in a huge fucking mess.” The Ex-Heavy approached the surgery table and threw Medic upon it. Feeling the wind being knocked out of his system from the impact onto the table, he found his eyes quickly flinching away from the bright lights being shined upon him. As he brought his hand up to block the light, he felt the larger hand collecting both of his wrists and pinning it over his head.

Medic felt his vest and dress shirt being ripped open, the buttons scattering across the floor of the med-bay. His scars exposed for the Ex-Heavy to admire. The light was bright and the larger male was nothing but a silhouette, but Medic could feel his satisfied stare. It wasn’t long until he felt a hand begin to trace over the scars.

“I remember every one of these…I did well marking you. If this doesn’t say that you’re mine, then I don’t know what do.”

Every word that came out of the man’s mouth made Medic want to fight back, but his body refused to listen to him. The chains weren’t there; it was a single hand holding him down, so why wasn’t he fighting back? As the Ex-Heavy leaned in to make his face clearer for Medic to see, he whispered against those quivering lips, “…Why don’t we spend some quality time together…? For old time’s sake…”

_I respect your bravery…_  
Medic could hear a familiar voice whispering deep inside his mind.

Then the colors in his face drained while his ears began to ring.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I will keep doing my best to have this fanfic updated as often as I can. My life is quite on track now and my part-time job is going great. I already have the ending visioned out in my mind, so this fanfic actually might end before "Without You, Without Me". 
> 
> Again, thank you for keeping up with this fanfic and I hope that y'all enjoyed this chapter and I haven't let you down.


	8. What Would I Do Without The Engineer?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Engineer at times is a man of mystery. There are things he doesn't share with anyone, but one of the things he dislikes sharing with everyone is about Medic's past. When it comes to Medic, Engineer means business.

**Year** : _1967 [ Present ]_

 **Month** : _Unknown_

 **Location** : _The Sniper’s Camper_

The BLU Team, minus Medic, all jumped into Sniper’s Camper to head to the bar. Everyone took their seat within the camper whilst Sniper, Engineer, and Spy sat up in the driver’s section. It wasn’t that they _wanted_ to go to the bar, but because Scout had been pushing everyone for it; however, it seemed that everything didn’t matter because Medic didn’t join them. Scout’s defeated and depressed face was enough to show that he wasn’t happy with the current outcome.

Sniper waited a couple minute for the folks in _his_ camper to settle down so that he can drive off, only to hear Soldier giving out a shout of approval to get a move on, “GET YOUR ASS ON THE ROAD AUSSIE!”

A disapproving grunt escaped Sniper’s mouth as he then started the camper, giving a pound upon it to get their attention, “KEEP OUT OF MY BELONGIN’S YOU WANKERS!” A group of mumbles were given as answers as Sniper then had no choice but to accept and get on their way. Once the camper was on the move, nothing but the sound of talking in the camper and road could be hard. Sniper kept his eyes upon the road while Engineer kept his out in the darkened horizon beyond his closed window.

Spy, who was trapped between the two silent men, couldn’t help but to clear his throat to clear the air between the three, “It iz a pity zat ze Medic wasn’t able to join us, non?”

Silence.

It was obvious that the two weren’t in the mood to talk, and it mainly had to do with the fact that Engineer disapproved of Sniper knowing about Medic. Spy had told him countless times that Sniper too was previously hired to assassinate Medic, but that wasn’t enough to persuade him. While Engineer was irritated about this, Sniper was irritated at the fact that Engineer wasn’t willing to share much detail with him regarding Medic. It bothered him that he was given a choice of trusting a Medic who obviously was involved with one of the stronger enemies. Gray Mann.

The drive only got further and further from the BLU Base as the silence in the driver’s section grew intense. This was something that irritated Spy, “…could we talk, like men? I understand zat ze Medic is a delicate matter, but I zink zat ze Sniper deserves to know more. Do you still not agree wiz me, Laborer?”

Engineer was silent, his goggled eyes still fixed upon the horizon of the snowy field filled with vast darkness of Cold Front. Sniper took this as an insult and couldn’t help but to scoff, “You know w’ot I think? I think that he wants to keep the good ol’ secrets of the Medic to himself because he’s in love with that straight man.”

Spy quickly shot a glare towards Sniper, obviously warning him to not stir the already boiling pot that was before them. “Silence, Sniper. Zis is for ze good of not only ze team, but somezing bigger. As my informant has shared wiz me, ze Medic is indeed important enough zat ze Gray Mann is willing to go far as to retrieving him back.”

“Turn the camper around Stretch.”

Engineer finally broke his silence with an order, irritating Sniper, “You’re not the boss of me—“

“TURN THE DOGGONE CAMPER AROUND STRETCH! OR ELSE WE’RE GOIN’ TO LOSE A MEDIC!”

Sniper found himself slowing down the camper so that they could do a U-Turn without flipping over. He glared over at Engineer as Spy put the words to the expression, “What do you mean? How iz zat possible?”

Engineer pointed at his goggle and then out the window, “I have built-in night vision in this here goggle of mine. I saw a van heading towards the BLU Base a minute or two after we left the Base.” He fixed his goggles and gave out a disgruntled groan, “The van doesn’t belong to the Administrator, I should know because I fix the company owned vehicles from time to time…” There was a short silence, hinting to Spy that he also knew that the van didn’t belong to the Administrator for another reason. The reason, Spy assumed, involved Gray Mann.

The Spy, however, couldn’t help but wonder why the Engineer hadn’t stated anything earlier. He had spotted the van earlier, but why had he wait until now to state this? What had he been waiting for? It seemed that Spy wasn’t the only one who had caught onto this as a much younger voice shouted out what was still stirring in Spy’s mind, “Why’d ya wait this long to tell us this Engie?!”

Scout, who had been quietly rolling in his depressing silence, had crashed up to the front to glower down at the Engineer. Spy leaned flat against the irritated Sniper, just to give himself space away from the obnoxious Bostonian, while the Australian was doing his best to speed up without blowing a tire on some foreign object on the tough road.

The Engineer, with his unexpressive visage, looked straight at Scout and answered with a monotonic voice, “Just makin’ sure we gave ‘em enough time to settle into the Base.”

Everyone in the van, excluding the Engineer, glanced over at the Texan in either awe or agitation. It wasn’t an answer everyone had been expected from their fellow mercenary. _Expecting the enemy to settle into **their** Base_. It was unspeakable.

 _Sigh_.

Engineer slowly shook his head. He too seemed bothered by this, but not by his answer. _He seemed rather bothered by the fact that the other Mercenaries were confused by his decision._ Displeased, indeed he was.

“If the records I got of the Medic were correct, then we got ourselves a Ex-Heavy in our Base right now.”

If the Mercenaries knew one thing, it was to not mess with the Ex-Mercenaries. They were brutes who only cared about themselves. There were notes here and there that a few of them had either passed or moved on to much bigger and darker occupations, but those who stayed had their own sadistic reasons. The Ex-Heavy was notorious for latter note.

“The only way we can beat the bastard is when he’s vulnerable.”

…

The Medic’s mouth gaped opened as he tried his best to choke his groans down. He felt the large digits running and tugging his hair to get a reaction out of him. Reaction was the last thing Medic wanted to give to the Ex-Heavy. The more he reacted, the more he was tortured. Whenever he believed that it was going to be over, the thrusts became heavier and harsher.

“Come on, Brat…scream for me…make daddy happy.”

…

“We have to strike with everything we got…”

…

A gasp escaped as the Medic’s head rolled back to dig into the table blow him. The Ex-Heavy then grabbed his hair and pulled him up so that he was straddling upon his lap. He then released his grip from holding onto the Medic’s wrist and placed both of them onto the hip to increase the impact of his cock thrusting into the now ragdoll like man. The life in Medic’s eyes had drained away as his head limped over and rested against the larger man’s chest, letting out small reluctant moans from each impact.

“Good pup…I knew it’d be easier to break you when you were feeling safe…”

The Ex-Heavy slowly leaned back while keeping his thrust in a messy rhythm, trying to get a better look at the Medic’s face.

“…heh…that’s a good look you got on you, brat—“

There was a deafening shot, followed by blood. The crimson rain splattered upon every surface it could reach. Medic wanted to hear what was going on, but his touch with reality was on and off. He could feel the numbness of his body releasing as he fell flat upon his back. The bright beam from the surgical light blinded him as his world then slowly darkened.

_Boy? BOY! Nik--Nikolaus, stay with me boy. You’re alive. You’re doggone alive! YOU ARE TRULY A GIFT MY BOY!_

…

When the hearing returned, that’s when the sensation to his body returned. The hearing was first, or at least that’s what Medic believe it was. He had heard a familiar chuckling. It was the same chuckle from back when he had worked with Radigan Conagher. It was also one of the last few things he heard from the man before he found himself waking up on a one-way boat trip back to England.

Except this time, he was waking up in his own room. There was warmth over his chest and he could see blurry visions of someone moving around over him. _Was it the Ex-Heavy?!_ He felt his body flinch by reflex, before hearing a familiar and comforting voice of a Texan. “You awake Doc?”

As the Engineer handed him his spectacles, he glanced around to see that he was indeed in his room. He was safe and alone with the Engineer, but he didn’t want to let his guard down like he had done before. His eyes wondered around while his body lied flat upon his bed. The camera in his room was moving around, which meant that the Engineer had gone around fixing the once broken objects. _Wait, where was the Ex-Heavy?_.

“…E-Engineer…where is…where…whe…” The act of speaking out the man’s name made the aching return to his body. His eyes then widened in fear as he sat up to do his best to somehow claw away the blanket which had been lying over him, “T-There is a tracker inside me Engineer, t-ther—Engineer—inside me—!!!!!“

It seemed that the only person who was calm in this room was the Engineer, who had gone to lean in and place his hands upon the frantic man’s hands, “…it’s alright Doc…” The goggle reflected a face of a man who was confused, lost, and fragile. “…he’s…”

Engineer leaned in and placed his arms around the broken man, patting and slowly stroking his back to comfort him, “…everything will be fine Doc, I promise.”

“…Dell…”

“Yes?”

“I heard Radigan’s laughter…”

“…did you now…?”

Medic’s hands slowly rose up to rest over the Engineer’s back, holding him close while resting his face into the crook of the man’s neck. He felt his breath shake but held the Texan close. None of the other Mercenaries ever brought harm towards him, but the only person he ever felt comfortable with was the Engineer. It was always him, and no one else. Medic had the idea that it was because he gave out a familiar aura, tone, and ambition as his grandfather: Radigan Conagher.

“…Dell…please don’t leave me…”

“I won’t, Doc…”

If there was one thing the Engineer was going to do, it was going to be to keep his words. Whatever Grey Mann had planned, it was no match for those who had the Conaghers on their side.

“…you are safe with me, Nikolaus…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry for months of absence, but life had really sent a freight train of events for me. I am going to do my best to finish this fanfic so that I don't let anyone down. I honestly think of both "Without Me, Without You" and "Don't Try to Play God With Him" whenever I listen to music on my iPhone. The two OCs are very dear to me and I really want to give them quite the ending. I would also like to share these endings with readers who share the same interest as me. 
> 
> Anyhow, I hope people like this chapter. Again. I am very sorry about the delay.


	9. I Could Run Away, But I Don't Want To Be Immortal Anymore

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Ex-Heavy is supposedly dead, but no other information has surfaced. There isn't a body that Medic has seen and everyone is trying to brush it under the rug; meanwhile, Spy and Sniper has taken a leave of absence for supposedly a personal mission. It has been a month since the incident, and Medic just wants to be cured of his radiation poisoning.

**Year** : _1959_

 **Month** : _Unknown_

 **Location** : _Somewhere in the United States of America_

“So what’s your job?”

A raspy voice asked from beyond the metal bars. The man was hidden in the dark corner of his confinement. His ghostly eyes cautiously watched the tip of what it appeared to be a nicely cleaned, classy, loafer at the edge of his framed view. He had never seen the full embodiment behind the rest of the loafer, but he had also never started a conversation with the source until now.

“…you my bodyguard or something?”

No answer.

“…not much of a chatterer are yo--”

“Save your breath.”

The man behind the classy loafer had spoke with a familiar English accent. It may have been to prevent Nikolaus from wasting what little breath he had left of this current life cycle, but it could have also been to shut him up from further questioning. One thing about Nikolaus was that he could care more for a stray dog’s draining life than his own.

“Now we’re talking…I haven’t seen you much, but maybe it’s because you sometimes slip. I might only know you from your shoes, but you don’t seem like to type to slip quite often…what’s wrong? Your lady give you the boot or something?”

No answer.

It could have been the lighting, but in a split second, the small view Nikolaus had gotten of the loafer had disappeared; however, there was a feeling that he wasn’t alone. He could feel someone watching him. He didn’t know where or how, but he pressed his chapped lips together and slowly leaned back onto the cold concrete wall behind him.

“…feelings and desires are for weak-minded folks…I say, you are better off without her, and I even say that you’re better off than working for the mangy piece of whiny raisin you call a boss. Both of mine were a ball of madness…had fun turning them into all sorts of things yappin’ dog, cow, pig…they were like trophies to my freedom…”

Nikolaus knew that there was someone beyond the gloomy bars, watching and maybe even listening to him, but he couldn’t help but to shrug the heaviness of how lonely he had began to feel. The situation, however, had made him unable to share this longing. If he were to show even a breath of wanting company, than that mass of muscles would have come earlier than his usual timing to tear him over and over again.

_Damn himself for missing his stupid fucking Chihuahua Wife._

…

There was the King. A greedy, wrinkled, and an unforgiving King. He would let nothing get in the way of obtaining what he wanted: money, power, resource, people, and even immortality.

Then, there was his keeper. He wasn’t greedy, but rather sick and possessive. If there was one thing for sure, it was that this man would break every subject he was given to _keep_ for the King.

Finally, there were the Watcher and the Hunter. The two were always in the background and were rarely needed. They existed in case the Queen was to have escaped. The Watcher would alert the Hunter, and the Hunter would then hunt the Queen down in order to bring them back into the hands of their King.

What the Queen didn’t know was that while the Keeper was indeed the worst of the memories, the Watcher and the Hunter were on the levels of unspeakable horror. Horror in which the Queen could never imagine or even speak of.

_The Keeper had failed his job, and the King was not pleased._

~~The Watcher and the Hunter was finally up for their task.~~

**Year** : _1967_

 **Month** : _Unknown_

 **Location** : _BLU Base; Locker Room_

The locker room was silent. Silence was something Medic had longed for since the incident.

It had been nearly a month since the Ex-Heavy had broken into the BLU Base in an attempt to abduct the Medic. The Engineer had informed him that the Ex-Heavy was deceased, and the tracker implanted inside his body was too of the past. Everything seemed too good to be true, but until the machine was done, he had nowhere else to go.

“…”

At least the locker room was empty enough for him to use one of the ice tubs as a hot tub. It had been awhile since he actually _longed_ to be alone. The freedom from the other Mercenary’s sympathy was starting to get to him. The Heavy’s constant question as to if he needed aid, or the Soldier’s way of caring, telling him to move on with his own tone and wordings such as:

“IT WAS AN EVENT IN WHICH WE WILL ALL LEARN FROM MAGGOT! WE WILL MOVE ON TOGETHER AS BAND OF BROTHERS!”

Meanwhile, Demoman had offered to share his stash with him so that they could just drink the bad memories away. Truth be told, it was an offer he wouldn’t have minded on accepting, but he didn’t want the socializing aspect which he knew would come with upon accepting the said offer.

Sniper and Spy had taken off after the incident, and were replaced with temporary mercenaries who weren’t of big help on the field. When Medic approached Engineer about this, he was told that it was nothing and that they should just focus on the Machine and their work on the field. Since the three of them were all Support classes, it didn’t really change Medic’s patterns on the field.

Scout, however, had become much attached to the Medic. He visited the infirmary more and even came over to ask if he would like to hang out more. The offers, just like the Demoman’s, were always declined. It wasn’t that Medic didn’t want to hang out with the Bostonian, but rather because he just wanted to be left alone.

Now, Pyro, unlike the others, was the silent type who just aided him on the field more, or even in the Base to help around the normal daily routines. It was the small things, and that was something Medic didn’t mind.

If anyone was making him slightly feel better, it was the Pyro and Engineer; although, when did the Engineer _not_ make him feel comfortable. The more he stayed with the Engineer, the more it reminded him of the days of working with Radigan Conagher. Of course, it was something he expected out of the Texan, seeing as that the two were related. The only thing which set them apart was the Mentor and Student act. The punishments, the learning, it was something which disintegrated upon the fact that the Engineer and himself were leveled on the same level. The level of learning from each other.

“…hm…”

Medic slowly rolled his head against the small layers formed by the towel he had folded earlier, the support it gained by resting against the frame of the tub was able to give him the chance to find a comforting posture within the small, warm, tub.

“…the lots are hiding something from me…”

He slowly sank his lip under the water, blowing out bubbles before slowly raising back up and relaxing back against the towel. There must have been a lot of things he could have done to make himself feel better, one being: just fuck it and run away. But, that was something he didn’t want to do due to that fact that he did want to cure himself of this burden which was placed upon him by an experiment gone wrong.

“…”

Thoughts and paranoia began to rise, but it eventually flew away as the warmth of the tub began to embrace the tiresome Medic. The heaviness of his eyelid got the best of him, telling himself mentally to just rest them for a brief moment so that he didn’t drift away into slumber in the tub. The last thing he wanted was to get out of the tub as a temporary aged old man, at least body wise.

_In the end, the ~~mental exhaustion~~ got the best of him._

…

 **Time** : _Thirty minutes later_

 **Month** : _Unknown_

 **Location** : _BLU Base; Locker Room_

Scout had spent the entire evening in the search of Medic. The moment, in which he discovered that the Englishman wasn’t in his infirmary, he took off running in search for him. The Engineer provided him with no answer, yet again. Ever since the incident with the Ex-Heavy, Scout had done his darnedest to make sure that he knew where Medic was at all times. When he couldn’t find him anywhere throughout the Base, he ended up in the locker room. The last room he had expected the man to be.

“Doc?”

The light footing allowed him to make his way through the row of lockers for both temporary and permanent mercenaries. When visuals didn’t give him any aid, he made his way swiftly towards the shower hall, then the steam room, and then finally the tub room.

“Doc--?”

When he saw the lightly salt and peppered head resting against one of the tub, his heart beat slowed down, only to speed back up upon the thought of knowing that the Medic was completely naked within the tub. _Not that it matter, Scout tried to make himself believe_.

“…”

The footsteps lightly approached and stopped before he slowly got onto his knees to crawl over. He could feel his ears beating harshly upon the thought that he could have caught the glimpse of the other man naked. He had worked with the man for the last two years and had yet to see him in the showers. Now that Scout had noticed, he had never seen the man without an inch of his body below the neckline, unclothed. That was until a month ago upon the incident.

The scars. The pieces a man could become. The sight of Medic in such state was enough to leave a mark in Scout’s mind. After they had arrived back at their Base, they had found the ex-Heavy torn apart. His head was nowhere to be found, but it was obvious that someone had killed him before they had arrived. He and the other men who had infiltrated the Base along side with weren’t only shot, but brutally cut into pieces. When they saw the knocked out Medic, which according to the Engineer was from shock and not any head trauma, he couldn’t find himself to lift a finger up to approach the unconscious man.

Medic was bear naked for all to see. He was being defiled while they were about to go on and have a drink at the bar. The Medic lying lifelessly before him back then, was broken and almost lost. If he didn’t know any better at the time, he could have surly believe that the man was deceased.

“…”

Scout approached the tub before turning around and resting his back against it, bringing his knees up together to embrace them. It was a conflicting moment for the young Bostonian, knowing that he could protect someone. He was powerless, and those who had the ability to protect this man, wasn’t willing to let him into their knowledge and circle. _He would have done everything in his power to keep him safe_.

“…I want to keep you safe Doc…”

The young Bostonian whispered into his arms before slowly turning his head towards the slumbering man in the tub.

“…keep you from harm’s way, so that no bastards out there can hurt you…”

He slowly rose and leaned over to look at the Englishman’s face. The man looked as though he was in a state of peace, slumbering away in the embrace of silence. Every inch of the man’s wrinkles, pores, sweats, and hairs out of place were enough to detach Scout from the reality. Then without realizing, Scout’s lips were hovering over the other’s ever-so-slightly parted ones. It was the same lips which were usually shouting orders on the field for others to receive their medical attention, or even scolding those who didn’t listen in the Base when things were out of place. It was the lips which Scout never imagined himself being so close to with his own.

The moment brought Scout’s breath to a halt, as he then leaned into have a small taste of the other’s still lips.

Then, there was a rush of adrenaline in the boy’s mind as he then quickly leaned back to realize what he had done. Shame. Embarrassment. Disrespect. All of these vocabularies rushed up and poured into his mind as he quickly dashed off. He couldn’t believe what he had done. The man he respected and wanted to protect, he had invaded his privacy and disrespected him with his own selfish act.

“Stupid, stupid, stupid!”

The boy insulted himself as he ran out of the locker room, leaving the Medic alone once again. Once the silence settled, there was a shift in the air in the tub room. It was subtle, almost like a shift in the wind in a place where it lacked a window.

A man appeared to uncloak to reveal his heavily salted hair with his just as equally salted, light, yet groomed, beard. He fixed the buttons on his black and gray pinstripe suit and placed his hand around the rim of the tub in which the Medic rested. His clean and classy loafers silently making its way around it while his eyes rested upon the pocket watch which had been in his hold the entire time.

“Shy of an hour, before someone came to even check on you.”

He shut the pocket watch and stopped his footing around the tub to look at the Medic. This slumber was no accident, and the man knew. His eyes peered into the water before reverting them back to the man. “The sleeping aid should relieve you soon…this was quite the reunion, wouldn’t you say old chap?”

There was a smile slowly melting upon his face as he then reached over to stroke the Medic’s cheek, running his fingers up to stroke through the salt and peppered field before reaching around the rest around the nape of the man’s neck.

“I couldn’t turn mine into a yapping mutt, but I was able to work out with him.”

The man leaned down, wrinkling his perfectly ironed suit before leaning in and resting his lip around the edge of Medic’s ear, “…we decided that we would both adopt a mutt to make our relationship work…I hope that you don’t mind us taking you in once everything is set…”

The man smiled and breathed heavily into Medic’s ear before flicking his tongue against it and feeling his teeth brushing against the flesh. An urge was obviously present, but the man, keeping his composure, slowly leaned away and stood up tall to look down at his future _pet_.

“…Gray Mann, was never a threat to you…merely an annoying little brat who needed a binky in his yappy little trap to shut him up…”

There was a smile. A comforting smile for those who may have taken it out of context, but if one were to have kept their eyes upon it for just a split second longer, they could feel the chills it sent down their naïve spine.

…

 **Time** : _Unknown_

 **Month** : _Unknown_

 **Location** : _Gray Mann’s Hidden Base_

“What happened here...?”

Both Spy and Sniper were hired by the BLU Engineer to come and take out Gray Mann. It was so that the man wouldn’t be of interference anymore. The mission to track the man down had taken them just a little over few weeks. It wasn’t as though that there was a sign which led them to the old man, but with the results of Spy’s informants, they had arrived; although, they had arrived at a building which had become a slaughter house.

The moment the two had stepped out of the Sniper’s camper, the half mile radius around the premise reeked of death. It was then that Spy and Sniper both knew that something was amiss. There weren’t single guards around to even greet them, which struck up a red flag for the two former assassins.

“…merde…”

Spy whispered as he walked pass the building’s gate. His eyes were fixed upon the door in front of them. A door which was colored in a dark brew of coffee, but the smell supported a much morbid theory. While the Frenchman kept his eyes upon the front door, which his informant had shared would be a large _glass_ door and not a colored or a wooden one at that.

When the two approached the building closer, it was obvious that the content in which was darkening up the door was indeed what they suspected. Blood. Gallons upon gallons of dried blood. From the look of the area, it had been like this for quite some time now, in which the Sniper had an answer to.

“…give it two weeks? Maybe add half to that?”

Sniper had reached up to feel the blood before leaning in and smelling it, only to slowly gaze up the building to notice that the windows _weren’t_ shaded but rather drenched in blood just as equally as the front door. The only window which wasn’t darkened up was the one at the top, which the two knew was the location of Gray Mann’s office.

“...must have pissed off the wrong dingo…”

The two entered the building, and had to resort to turning on a flash light or of sort in order to light up their ways. The lights were killed off, and the walls, flooring, and even the ceilings were caked with dried blood and entrails. The bodies which they were fortunate, or rather unfortunate, to stumble upon were missing their heads. It was to such extent of mutilation that even Spy couldn’t tell the gender or race of the deceased bodies without giving them a swift clean-up.

On their way up to Gray Mann’s office, Sniper coughed from time to time due to the dust the dried blood had been emitting around them; meanwhile Spy kept a handkerchief close and over his nose and mouth, not that doing so took away the taste and smell of the sickening amount of iron around them.

“…zis…”

Spy quietly choked up as they made their way up the stairway.

“…this w’ot?”

“…somezing does not fit…”

“…nmgh…w’ot? W’ot doesn’t fit, mate? Speak in complete statement you bloody imbecile.”

An expression of irritation was obviously present on Spy’s face as he sighed into his handkerchief. The last thing he wanted was to start up an argument with a man he knew was his ride back to the BLU Base.

“You share zat ze blood was at most two and ze half weeks old?”

“You heard me.”

“…zat was around ze time when ze Ex-Heavy infiltrated ze Base.”

“…”

Everything began to click inside Sniper’s mind as his footsteps slowly began to come to a halt. It wasn’t just the thought which had caused him to come to a stop when he was merely five or six steps away from reaching the top, but because of what caught his line of sight.

“…Sniper?”

The Spy watched the man as he slowly made his way up while keeping his eyes upon the man, only to find himself too to a stop as he turned to see what the Sniper had seen.

The door to Gray Mann’s office was open, and it was the only room in the building where the window was wide open for the sunlight to shine through. The sunlight presented them a room which had obviously been rearranged so that they, or anyone, would discover the horrific scene. At least one thing was for sure, they finally found out what had happened to the heads of the victims throughout the building, and the Ex-Heavy.

The heads were lined up along the walls with what it seemed to be nails holding them up in place and also lined up in an orderly fashion along the floors to show a makeshift walkway to what once was Gray Mann’s desk. They only knew it was Gray Mann’s desk as his name plate was the only thing in the room which was legible. Alas, behind it was the man they were looking for, or at least, the head of the man they were sent to look for. Next to Gray Mann’s head was surprisingly the Ex-Heavy’s. What made chills shoot down the Spy and Sniper’s spine was that on the forehead of the Ex-Heavy’s head was a bullet hole. There was an entry hole but not an exit hole, which gave the two Mercenary a clue that whoever fired the shot was either at a greater distance or maybe even behind a door. _Maybe a secure door such as the BLU Base’s infirmary door_. This was a fact which couldn’t be proven sure for the door to the infirmary had been replaced shortly after the infiltration.

Sniper, wanting to know at least what bullet had brought the Ex-Heavy down reached into the stiffened head and dug in with the goal to retrieve the bullet. The Spy, however, glanced around in searching for clues. He didn’t know what type of clues he was looking for, but everything about what he had seen told him that it was eventually tie up with their Medic. When his eyes glanced around the room, he found himself getting a glimpse of the ceiling. The ceiling wasn’t as bloody as it has been throughout the rest of the building; however, it didn’t _lack_ the blood. The blooded trail on the ceiling read the following: _THE TROPHIES TO OUR FREEDOM_.

“Spy…”

“Oui?”

“You have your ammo for your Ambassador?”

“Oui, why do you as…”

When Spy turned to look over at the Sniper, his eyes glanced down to the bullet which had been pulled out of the Ex-Heavy. It was an all too familiar bullet which he had the first person experience to see fresh out of its casings. He could tell what bullet it was regardless of the damage for he knew his assigned weapons inside and out, no matter how distorted they may be.

“I am beginning to feel zat whoever did zis…knew zat we would be sent out of our Bases…”

“But w’oi would it matter? And for w’ot?”

“…maybe it is because zat ze men who did zis, are zose who are very familiar wiz our specialties.”

“Or, maybe we are just better than you and we just wanted to fuck with you lots before we picked you out one by one, of course the annoying ones get picked out first.”

The Sniper and Spy’s eyes widened upon hearing a voice which didn’t belong the either of the two. They turned to look at the source standing by the entrance way of Gray Mann’s office. The man was dressed like the BLU Sniper; however, his uniform’s color pallets were red and black.

“While talking to myself would be quite the pleasure, it wouldn’t be healthy for me to not be punctual with the plan.”

The man then drew out a Tribalman's Shiv from behind him and charged at the two mercenaries without giving them the moment to breathe, which the two in retaliation took the time to withdraw their weapons from their own cases.

Shots were fired, _blood spilt_.

…

 **Year** : _1890 (?)_

 **Month** : _Unknown_

 **Location** : _Somewhere in the United States of America_

“Tell me boy, what is better than having the knowledge to splice genes?”

Nikolaus looked at his Mentor with brows frowned upon this absurd question. He was about to spit out a nasty comment but yet again, he was beaten to the punch.

“Time and universe.”

It was a questionable answer, but Nikolaus pondered upon it. He didn’t understand where Radigan was going with this, but the man was mad enough to never really make sense; although, he knew better than to underestimate the man’s madness.

“Imagine boy. Don’t imagine small, imagine Texas style.”

“Uh-huh..”

“Thinking small with just gene-splicing, you won’t get anywhere. You got to broaden your vision. Break free from that bird cage of yours.”

Radigan smiled at his student’s confused expression, grinning as he approached him. As he approached, he placed his gloved hand over the jet black lock, playfully disheveling it, “There will be a time boy, when you’ll understand what I am trying to get at. Dream big boy. Dream big, like me.”

Nikolaus began to hiss back at the messing of his hair as Radigan continued to poke fun at his one and only student. Not too far from the two was a table filled with blue prints, many being weapons and tools for businesses in which were interested in Radigan’s work. The papers hid what it seemed to be a bigger blue print. Words scattered throughout its page as though a madman had just wrote which ever came up at the tip of his head. Immortality. Universes. Gateway. Alternate beings.

_…best mistake I’ve ever created in my life…_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I may be away for awhile. I have some life troubles to handle. I really hope that people still enjoyed this fanfic, actually it is the comments and likes I am still receiving which made me come back for a short while. I am sorry for the long hiatus, I have really been busy.
> 
> Sadly, I will be busy again. I will try to come back soon as possible, but life has never been too kind to me.
> 
> Enjoy. Your comments and kudos mean a lot to me, and it really brightens my day when I see that people enjoy my fanfics as much as I like to write it up. Thank you so much for putting up with the wait.
> 
> I also would like people's opinion as to whether or not I should tag: Christian Brutal Sniper and Christian Brutal Spy. I kind of want it to be a surprise to many people; however, at the same time I would love to see more work under the said tags.


	10. I Have Questions and I Want Answers, But I Want That Rabbit First

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There is something strange going on in Cold Front, but it isn't the immortal Medic, it is most of those who are involved with him. Medic wants answers, and just as before, there's a chance that he won't be getting any part of it, if he's lucky then maybe he'll get some breadcrumbs. Maybe.

The blizzard in Cold Front was terrible at times for matches to be called off. This meant that the cancelled matches would stack into a one massive one. When RED or the BLU won a stacked match, the loser of the said match would be given a chance to redeem that win with the help of outside mercenaries. The mercy round, named by the seasoned mercenaries for its way of giving _a mercy hand_ to a losing side, rarely ended well for the team which had faced the loss earlier in the stacked match.

As stated, it was _rare_ for the team which had just lost, to **win** the mercy round. This was due to the fact that the hired mercenaries tended to be rookies from the streets. They were nobodies just trying to make quick bucks. _They weren’t made for the field in which people were hired to murder each other on day to day bases_. Worst case scenario, which had never happened before, if the timer were to run out in the mercy round, the previously winning team would obtain the win for the round.

That was until the recent match between the two bases. The BLU had won and the REDs had agreed for a mercy round. _It was a massacre carried on by one single person_. The man was a Spy who was supposedly hired by Miss Pauling, at least, that was what was written on paper. It was a strange change which had turned the BLUs day into a rather unfortunate event.

The first mercenary to be taken down was the Medic. He had merely stepped out of the spawn when a single shot from an Ambassador pierced the bridge of his nose and exited through the round of his skull. The Scout turned to take down the source, only to be greeted with the sharp end of a thrown Black Rose upon his forehead. The knife was planted deeply into the Bostonian’s head, which made the rest of the BLU Mercenaries believe that their enemy was now only armed with a single weapon. _The underestimation of their opponent brought everyone of them onto their knees_.

…except, _the Engineer_.

“Miss Pauling wouldn’t have hired a slaughter house such as yourself…”

Engineer stood with only but a wrench in his hand, looking up at the unmasked Spy before him. The man, even as he had murdered all but eight of the BLU mercenaries, hadn’t been touched with a single drop of blood. He was neat, composed, and confident.

“The moment you came out to face us without a single RED on your side tells me two things: you either told them to stay behind, or you slaughtered them. I reckon that the later is the correct answer.”

There was a solemn glow around the man, and his silence was sharp enough to bring down an army of seasoned mercenaries. He raised his hands briefly to show his unarmed stance before sheathing them into his pants pockets. Then, gradually, he leaned down to look at the Engineer’s goggle. It reflected the man’s handsomely groomed visage, but it was obvious that those piercing blue eyes were in the search of the Engineer’s hidden eyes beyond the two reflectors.

“Have you checked on your little mutts yet? The ones you sent out weeks ago?”

There was only silence on the Engineer’s end. The match was still in session, and there weren’t cameras on the field of Cold Front to record the two’s conversation; however, even the Engineer knew that this _wasn’t_ the place for this subject matter. The unknown Spy on the other hand believed that it was indeed the right time to bring the said secretive matter up, for he then continued on with his question regardless of the Engineer’s reply.

“Pardon me, I meant a month ago. Your lack of reply tells me that you have accepted the worse of their _said demise_.”

The Spy slowly leaned back, glancing up as the first dust of snow began to whisper around them. His eyes lingered even as he heard the Engineer’s chuckle. _Amusement? Maybe hysteria?_ The difference between the RED Engineer and the BLU Engineer was that the two were intensely different. The RED Engineer worked for the Administrator. The loyalty was absolute and the man’s view of the world was blinded. The BLU Engineer saw the world as his sandbox. He believed that if he could imagine it and draw out a plan, he could twist and turn everything into a form _he_ desired to see as reality.

“…you’re still mad as they come, aren’t you? You Mad _Selfish_ Cook…”

There was a hint of amusement in the Spy’s voice; however, the _Engineer_ couldn’t help but to not find the said title to be of anything but amusing. The chuckle came to an abrupt end as he then glanced up at the man standing before him. One could have imagined what was beyond the goggles, but as mysterious that could have been it wasn’t shrouded in the shadows as the BLU Engineer’s _existence_. _His existence, if one knew, would have titled it as an anomaly_.  
“You don’t belong here as much as _I_ don’t belong here…”

“Boy, you belonging here is only _because_ of my work.”

“…oh pretentious Mad Cook, would you like another catalyst for your _hard work_?”

“…ungrateful cattle need some discipline I see…”

“Does _he_ know?”

The silence returned with a vengeance, and it only gave the satisfaction the Spy was looking to achieve. There was a shit-eating grin running across his face, stretching from ear to ear as he then began to shake from the amusement of _said situation_. The quiet amusement flourished into a barking, mock-like, laughter as the Engineer silently stood before him to shoot him a reality shaking question.

“Tell me… _boy_ …how much of _this_ , your true intention, is still embedded in that noggin of yours?”

The Spy’s laughter came to an abrupt halt as he then looked down at the Engineer, tilting his head before leaning in and placing the tip of his gloved index finger upon the hard hat.

“…what does your bloodline tell you?”

“3…”

“…would you tell your little mutts…”

“2…”

“…everything that _our_ Engineer and Medic told us?”

“1…”

The final bell rung as the Spy then turned around to make his way back towards the RED Base, waving his hand as a farewell _for now_. The Engineer on the other hand, stood in silence in the middle of the field. The snow dusting over his head as the Administrator, determining from points earned, announced the BLU team as the winner for this week’s match.

Even while he was once again a BLU Engineer, today didn’t seem like the winning day to him.

…

The night was filled with celebration for the BLU team. Scout, for the first time since the locker room incident, didn’t really approach to ask the Medic for an invitation, mostly due to self guilt; however, Medic still joined while staying close to the Soldier’s company. It all began when the Soldier started to tell Medic about his days in the service. He might have gotten a dishonorable discharge, but it was the war which received his attention.

The war reminded him of the days when he was still with his older brother. Soldier might have not really _cared_ about him, but his mentality of the war front was similar to his brother’s. In fact, it was actually Medic who approached Soldier. He knew that out of everyone in the BLU Base, Soldier would be the honest one. _The man always spoke what was in his mind, no matter how unreal they could be. At a time such as this, Medic felt safer around someone who wasn’t willing to lie to him for the sake of his own mental safety._  
“Haha…my brother was in the first World War…he wasn’t my brother by birth, but he treated me like one. The bloody bastard cared about me more than he cared about himself.”

The alcohol was whizzing through Medic’s body, loosening his tongue to be more open about his life. It wasn’t something he was keen on doing whilst sober, but he was currently on a smooth sailing with company and drinks of celebration.

“He didn’t want me to come to the States, but I didn’t listen and he went to war…”

The sheepish gaze into the glass gave away the guilt the Medic was currently feeling about his previous mistake. There were many ifs and buts in the world, but the biggest, at least to him, was: _what if he wasn’t selfish and stayed? Would he have died with his brother on the field? Would he have saved his brother from an untimely death?_ One thing was for sure, _he_ wouldn’t be the way he was if he weren’t a selfish brat.

Soldier tilted his head to look at the man sitting before him. He had seen many men in the service that had the same aura and composure as the man sitting before him. There were many things which could have been done in the said situation: a strong and stern pep talk, or comfort. The first one was something he was a master at, the later? Not so much.

However, even he felt a pang in his heart towards the Medic since the incident with the Ex-Heavy. The man had been violated in a way that no one ever should have been. Sure. Soldier was slightly bitter when he saw that Engineer had taken a huge interest towards Medic, but, they had drifted apart long before Medic had come into the picture.

Soldier had technically lost Engineer a couple years before Medic’s existence was even known by the two, or rather at least on the Soldier’s end. _Who knew about the Engineer?_

“…I lost someone dear to me.”

Medic found his eyes blinking several times in confusion when he heard Soldier speak up. The man was known for shouting out and announcing his war stories, now hearing the man speak in a normal tone felt slightly askew. It was almost quite disturbing, making Medic wonder if the man was ill or even going through some rough patches in his life.

“Couple years before you joined…”

There was a pause as Soldier gave out a sigh and raised his hand to massage the nape of his own neck. He seemed to be searching for the right vocabulary and a way to form a statement in which it made sense. It was something he must have been doing so that he didn’t come out saying things in a wrong fashion, but an orderly one.

“The Engineer and I were in a type of companionship.”

Medic was almost too happy to be seated in a booth far from the others who were partying away by the bar table; however, just in case, he used his peripheral vision to make sure that the rest of the mercenaries were accounted for in the distant area before he proceeded to let Soldier speak of his personal life.

“Then one day, he changed. He wasn’t the Engie I knew. He avoided me and stayed cooped up in his room…”

…

 **Year** : _1965_

 **Month** : _Unknown_

 **Location** : _BLU Base_

Engineer was a punctual man, and a man of his word. He had never let Soldier down, except when he were to have worked the night before until he had mentally and physically crashed; however, even then the Engineer did his best to keep his promises. So when the Engineer didn’t show up for breakfast, Soldier worried of the man’s wellbeing. He knew that his goggle wearing companion had been working on an enormous project. The project was big enough that Engineer had told him that it was a big secret, and that when he was done, it would be shared only with Soldier. The excitement within Engineer’s voice only made Soldier happier for the man. Who _wouldn’t_ be happy to hear their loved one happily speak of their work?

 _But with hard work, came a mentally and physically exhausted Engineer_ …  
“…Engie?”

The breakfast gathering had come and gone, and not wanting to let Engineer go hungry, Soldier brought him a plate of simple egg, bacon, and toast. When the knocking went on unanswered, it was then that Soldier felt a sickening churn in his stomach. The worse scenarios began to play through his mind. What if the Engineer had severely injured himself enough, but not malicious enough to be sent to the respawn system? What if the incident with his arm happened again but this time in a life threatening form? He could have been calling out for help all morning and had given up when the others didn’t come to his aid. Paranoia began to rise and sink into the Soldier’s shaking hand as he then rose it back to give the door its one last pounding.

“…yeah?”

The fist quickly came to a halt as the door creaked open, Engineer peeking through the small crack to _greet_ the fellow American.

“What do you need?”

The relief of seeing the Engineer quickly subsided in Soldier’s mind as the tone of the other man began to blanket over his paranoia with rejection. It wasn’t like the Engineer to treat him like the other Mercenaries. _Maybe the man had gotten off of the wrong side of the bed?_  
“I didn’t see you at breakfast, so I brought you something to eat.”

Soldier handed Engineer his plate, only to watch the Engineer glance down at it as though he was looking at a strange contraption. After a brief second or two, he then took the plate and began to study the Soldier as though he hadn’t seen the man before. _Almost as though a scientist was studying a research subject before them._  
“Thanks.”

The plate of food left the Soldier’s hand, and quickly he was facing the door. Engineer had given him a shoulder colder than the blizzard dressed field of the Cold Front. He didn’t know why, but something deep inside him told him that something was wrong with this situation. The only problem was that, he didn’t pursue it.  
_He didn’t believe that this small and disheartening encounter with the Engineer, was part of something much bigger than himself_.  
…

 **Year** : _1965_

 **Month** : _Unknown_

 **Location** : _BLU Bar_

Soldier couldn’t help but to press his lips together, not wanting to linger in the past and accept the changed man Engineer had become. He didn’t even know why he had brought up this subject with the Medic. Maybe something in his mind believe that if he were to have spoken to the only other man of science in the Base about this situation, something would come out of it. _Just any form of answer_.

“Is there anything but the emotional and social change to Engineer to prove this statement? I understand that a man could change mere overnight…but was there anything physical to prove this? Maybe he had gotten a head injury? Or even something along the said line to make him change his personality?”

The problem with Medic was that he and Engineer was strictly on the research side of this whole _mercenary business_. They were working on a machine for the Administrator while at the same time looking for a way to cure him of this radiation poisoning. The only face and form of Engineer the Medic knew was the business side, a side which he was heavily familiar with for they were a split image of the Engineer’s grandfather: Radigan Conagher. _Truth be told, the two would have been the split image, exception of the building sideburns and the solemn, strict eyes, which the latter part the Medic had never seen due to the never absent goggles._

“His robot hand.”

“Wha?”

Medic’s brows frowned upon the mentioning of the robot hand. It was something he would have expected from the Engineer, but he wondered if this is what the Soldier meant.

“Do you mean he had made a bloody robot hand or are you meaning to tell me that—“

“Dell has a replacement for his right hand. A robot hand. I haven’t seen him use it on the field since that day.”

It had taken some time to think, but this was a solid proof in Soldier’s mind. He was always watchful over the Engineer, even when the other had given him the cold soldier. The change only gave the Soldier more of a reason to watch over his once companion. Now that the Medic had given him a good mental nudge, he began to connect the dots together and couldn’t help but wonder: Why didn’t Dell use his Gunslinger in the field anymore?

“Dell was mighty proud of that arm. It was one of the first things he built with the help of his grandfather’s blue print. To see him not use it on the field, I knew I should have approached him about it.”

This was a strange deal indeed, at least towards Medic. He had never seen this said _robotic arm_ , but that was also because the Engineer had never taken off his glove. It seemed that the only way he would have found out was if he were to have approached the man about it.

“I’ll talk to him about it.”

Soldier grinned in pure amusement before glancing over to look over the Medic’s shoulder, and before he was able to warn the Medic, the third wheel drowsily sprinted over to their booth.

“HEY DOC!”

It was a heavily intoxicated Scout, leaning onto the table and slowly leaning against the Medic as he melted onto the seat. His words were slurred as he done all night to get his courage up to apologize to the older male. In order for this to happen, he had drank excessively with the Demoman, and now without even realizing, he had become a drunken fool.

“What were you guys whisperin’ about?”

Scout questioned as his eyes stayed fixed upon the Medic, who was now uncomfortably flushed against the wall and not doing his best to push the younger male away.

“Private matters. Scout, could you please give the two of us some space? We were talking over some rather important matters.”

“Doc, why do you hate me?”

“Scout, I do not hate you.”

“Does that mean you like me?”

“Yes yes, now could you please give us some spac--?”

Scout only smiled and leaned closer and raised his arms to rest them over the Medic’s shoulder, bringing them around to pull the older man’s face closer to his own. To hear that the Medic liked him, he couldn’t feel more ecstatic, and being drunk only fueled the hunger he had towards the Medic to the limit. As he pulled the confused Medic close, he leaned his face up to plant a kiss upon the parted lips, cutting his word off.

The only sound in the bar was the shouting Demoman and his close companion, Pyro. Heavy barked in laughter as the two made a fool of themselves while the two temporary Spy and Sniper sat amongst themselves. Soldier sat in awe as he watched the kiss happen, only to fix his helmet and take a stand.

“I’ll give you two some space.”

With Soldier’s leave, Medic quickly pushed Scout away in shock. His ears were now red as he placed his hand over his own lip so that the kiss would not happen again. Scout on the other hand smiled his stupid smile once more before slowly slouching over and falling over upon Medic’s lap. _Knocked out, most likely from the alcohol_. He couldn’t believe what had just happened, but he found himself quickly finding his composure and leaning against the wall for a brief second.

“What sort of S.N.A.F.U did I just get myself into…”

If one thing was for sure, he wasn’t about to leave the Scout in his drunk state. Medic sat in a self given silence for a moment before slowly helping the Scout get onto his feet for a brief moment. He didn’t drink as much as the other Mercenaries, and knew that the temporary Spy and Sniper could have given the others a ride back to their Base. As for the Medic, he was going to head back with the Scout in his own van. The two had quite the night, while the paths may have been quite different, it was enough to mentally knock Medic into exhaustion and Scout into a road to a painful hangover.

Saying his goodbyes, Medic aided Scout into his van and made sure that the boy was secure for his own safety. The drive was a short one, but it was dangerous for those who weren’t careful enough. Cold Front’s road was known for its slippery surprises, along with its pitch black roads due to the dead street lights. The blizzard always brought overkills to all the outside lightings, respawn system, and cameras, but it didn’t do anyone harm as long as they were careful with their actions.

“…a nice bath could give this night a good end—“

Medic’s words cut off as he found air being knocked out of his system due to a powerful impact upon his van. He quickly reached and placed his arm in front of Scout while doing his best to regain control over this slippery road, but it was too late. His van slid and fell driver’s seat flat upon the snowy floor. _This was not good._

“Fuck…”

Everything was a blur in Medic’s eyes, and it slowly began to dye itself red as the blood from his forehead began to seep onto and over his eyelids. He shut his eyes before reopening them to bring them into a high focus, seeing Scout still knocked out from either the booze or the crash. He freed himself of his seatbelt and leaned over to make sure that the boy was breathing and sighed in relief as he felt a pulse. The relief was brief as he then quickly began to think fast. _What had hit them? And how far were they from the Base?_ His current goal was to take Scout back to the Base as soon as possible. It wasn’t safe for the boy to be outside of the respawn area. It was fine for him, but he didn’t want that type of thinking to let them lose a perfectly good Scout.

As he then reached over to help the Scout out of the seatbelt, he was ambushed with the sound of something bashing into the front window. Once made Medic believe that it was maybe a rock or the wind, but the second time made his heart drop with the thought of the worst case scenario. _Whatever hit them, was now trying to get to them._ Before Medic was able to find a back-up weapon to protect him and Scout, the front window was bashed down and torn out of the van in brute, inhumane force. Then, a hand reached out and took a firm grip around his ankle and pulled him out in a one swift movement, throwing him across the snow and away from the van.

“What--…”

“Good. You’re not dead.”

Medic’s eyes found himself looking up at the source of the voice, seeing merely a silhouette due to a second vehicle’s headlight shining behind them.

“Who are you? What in the bloody hell do you want from us?”

The man merely stood there, not facing the Medic but instead facing over at the flipped van. Medic followed to see a second man now holding Scout over their shoulder. A protective instinct kicked in an instant as Medic then quickly sat up to prevent them from harming the young mercenary. His movements, however, were quickly restricted as he then felt the sharp pain in his rib, causing him to quickly fall back upon his side. The fall was accompanied by a bloody cough, a situation never had Medic heavily desire his regenerations to kick in as he did at the present moment.

“Broken ribs? How unfortunate. Keep calm and you’ll be fine in a few.”

The further male’s voice had now spoken as he then began to head towards the second vehicle. They opened the door and placed Scout inside, returning to accompany the injured Medic with the other man. The two men’s face were hidden behind the silhouette, but he couldn’t help but to put link them with rather familiar face. It could have been due to the fact that one of them was wearing a familiar outline of an outback hat.

“…Is that you? Sniper?”

The question was quickly met with a barking of malicious laughter. It could have been amusement, but it could have also been a mockery towards him due to the question.

“I haven’t been called that in ages.”

“We can’t take him _and_ the Scout Mercenary…”

The second voice, or rather the first voice he had heard earlier, seemed to have been studying the situation. They were obviously racing against time, but why were they after him _and_ Scout? If their intention towards Scout was homicidal, he wouldn’t have mind if they took him instead. His hand slowly reached out and rested against the silhouette which lacked a hat wear.

“…take me instead. Don’t…don’t take him. The boy did nothing wrong…”

As his finger lingered upon the shoes, he couldn’t help but to notice how clean and well kept they were. Not a scuff mark could be felt. _A pair of nice, clean, loafers_.

“We’ll take the Scout Mercenary first while our mind’s still fresh. We can’t slip, or else _he’ll_ be very displeased…”

The silhouette with the nice loafers ignored the Medic’s plea and spoke to the outback hat wearing, second silhouette.

“Tch…hopefully he’ll have a fix for this damned mishap. At least we know which coordinates to take next time. We found it and honestly the other lots can burn. We technically don’t really need the little jack rabbit either. We can just take the Medic right now and get this shit over with.”

“We need a replacement for the one we lost.”

“Hell with the fucker we lost. Their mishap. Not ours.”

“He wants one for each of the Mercenaries so that _he_ can run things much smoothly.”

“We’re all bloody amnesiacs once we’re through that portal. You know what amnesiacs are? Useless.”

“Assassins with amnesia are quite useful when they are automatically programmed to be drawn to their targets…”

“Nmmg…the plus is that ours won’t stay dead.”

“…”

Medic had picked up several repeated words. _He_. _Amnesia_. And finally one curious term which made his curiosity pique: coordinates. If it were to have been the location of Cold Front, then they could have easily returned here with a help of a map. Maybe there was a different sort of transportation they were taking?

“Don’t die.”

The clean loafer wearing male stated, clearly aimed at the downed Medic before their feet. It was a rather careless statement, almost as though he was reminding him to not forget to do his homework or even a chore. _A simple statement_. The man then crotched down to place his hand over Medic’s lightly salted hair, examining before resting the palm of his hand upon it. It was a strange form of action in which Medic quickly swatted the man’s hand away from the physical contact.

“Fuck off mate…I’m not your pet.”

There was a silent pause from the two men, but then the loafer wearing male sharply exhaled through his nose and took a stand,

“We know. Sadly. You could have been, but then our missions finally kicked in.”

“Pity, right mate?”

“…truly, a shame.”

There was a hint of amusement in their tones, making Medic fear for what was about to come; however, his thoughts were shattered as he then felt the tip of a cold barrel of a sniper rifle resting against his head. As his eyes glanced up, he realized that it was the outback hat wearing male, which clearly indicated that he was some sort of Sniper. _Even though he had previously stated that he hadn’t been called such a title for quite some time_.

“Don’t worry pup, your mad cook will come and save you.”

The rifle fired, echoing through the snowy abyss.

 **Year** : _1965_

 **Month** : _Unknown_

 **Location** : _BLU Base_

The Engineer took the food from Soldier’s hand, closing the door behind him with curiosity sparking from synapse to synapse. The food was then left on the nearest flat surface as he then glanced around the lab. It was a lab which was heavily equipped with tools and technology, all enough to soak a scientist’s pants.

“This here is massive. Very massive indeed.”

There was a tone of excitement, but the man’s feet slowly came to a halt upon hearing a light splash under his feet. The crimson ooze spread across the metal tiles before him. It was traced to a body lying before a gaping burnt whole on the wall.

“…I’m sorry, but it had to be done son. It was for a greater cause.”

The man fixed his goggle and traced along his own cheek before glancing over at the mess around them, his eyes only coming to a halt upon the only neat set on the table. Blueprints which had signatures on the corners reading: Radigan Conagher. His hand reached over and traced the white words and drawings upon it, holding that smile before glancing over at the lifeless body once again.

“The sideburns and one less of a blood lineage is a small price to pay. With your tools and my plan, my young cattle…it will secure and rip a permanent hole in the wall. The wall of space and time.”

The Engineer slowly approached the lifeless one before placing his hand upon their hardhat. He slowly removed it and placed the bloodied piece over his own head, giving off a sadistic grin which stretched from ear to ear, “…Good night, Dell.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the disappearance, I've been working and honestly got into some MMORPG (The Secret World). This Fanfic isn't dead, but it's just going to have a long period of time where I don't update. I'm very sorry about this. I am sure that not many are following it anymore, but for those who are (Mom and Dad; just kidding), thank you. I really appreciate your support and I hope you enjoyed this chapter as I have while typing it up. I hope to see you next time I update. Thank you for reading and keeping up with this. Also, forgive me for any errors. I'm horrible at editing, especially thirty minutes before I head out to work.
> 
> PS: For my readers, your comments and kudos are all amazing and it is really the reason why I updated. Your words and support means a lot to me and it makes me happy to know that there are others out there who holds interest in this fanfic just as much as I do.
> 
> PPS: This is my Twitter if anyone is interested: [Twitter](https://twitter.com/frenchpressit)


	11. There are Those Who Play God and There are Those Who Play The Devil, Then There is Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Medic remembers his childhood and begins to connect the dots; meanwhile, Scout wakes up to find himself in an unfamiliar setting with those who seem familiar but at the same time does not. The Author is also very bad with writing summaries. The Author very much apologizes about this.

_There were times, when I would look at my brother and wished that I could lock him away from the world so that no one could touch him._

_Locked him away from all the dangers, sins, cruelty--_

**_The humanity_ **

_~~…to be my personal caged bird.~~ _

**Year** : _1882_

 **Month** : _January_

 **Location** : _Munich_

 _Mother and father are fighting again_. They are married, but they hate each other. They resent each other and showed nothing but disgust towards one another. It didn’t make any sense, but there they were, bound due to religion. _Religion, a powerful cult which was created because words were written in a black leather bound book by people who got messages from a formless man_. This was binding them together. This invisible force was stopping them from ripping one out of the other. It wasn’t the children which was keeping them together. It was just some spiritual horse shit.

“Brother?”

The blond male’s blue eyes were fixated upon the second floor’s window, his eyes burning into the two silhouettes pushing and shouting at each other in pure disgust. _Everyone in the neighborhood can hear you bastards_. The only thing which seemed to break the trance was a small voice which came from below the dazed child. The voice belonged to a young jet black haired and blue eyed boy, looking up from the snow covered root of the tree as he openly fidgeted with his fingers.

There wasn’t a response from the blond boy, but instead he chuckled with a playful smirk on his face and tilted his head to look down at the nervous pup, “Well then, come on up. I can’t hear you if you stand down there.”

The boy flinched and began to fidget more as he looked at the tree in fear. His hand reached out to touch, but quickly retracted as he then looked back up at the boy sitting up on the branch. It was dark, but the lights shining through the window lit the conflicted expression on the younger boy’s face. He wanted to climb so that he could be with the other, but due to the fear of harm, _he couldn’t_.

“…I fell last time…it really hurt…I-I just want you down here is all, so that you wouldn’t get hurt too…not that…you ever do…”

There was a bit of hesitance before the blond boy clicked his tongue and jumped off of the branch from which he was sitting upon. The jet black haired boy found himself in awe and fear from the sudden jump and instead of sliding away to safety, he opened his arms and cushioned the boy’s fall, leading him to fall back flat onto the snow covered field below him. There was nothing but silence, but that was a good thing. Silence around this home was a good thing, but it was short lived as the sound of glass breaking could be heard from within the house.

“…Brother…are you okay--?”

“Why didn’t you move away?”

The blond interrupted before slowly sitting over the jet black haired boy’s lap, looking down at him with irritation, but the other, with a rather confused look on his face, only answered the truth.  
“Why? If I did, you would have gotten hurt.”

 _Hurt_. The blond’s eyes trailed up to examined the boy below him, seeing him covered in snow and dead grass alike. If he didn’t get a scrape of sort to break skin, then they would have at least had a bump on their head from the collision. The thought of how _selfless_ this boy was scared him. They weren’t related by blood, but the fact that they lived under the same roof and lived with the same _hateful_ parents and had two sets of views in the world-- _it truly frightened him_. **He was pure as the snow around him**.

“What’s wrong, Brother?”

The blond had leaned down to rest his head into the crook of the other’s neck, slowly shaking his head to tell them that nothing was wrong. The truth of it all was that everything was wrong about this household, and he couldn’t wait to leave this place with his younger brother. He couldn’t wait to take him somewhere far away, maybe England or even better _America_. If it meant that he could take this bird in a cage and send him away, _far away_ , he would have.

“Nothing. Nothing’s wrong Nikolaus.”

 **raeY** : _5691_

 **htnoM** : _yraunaJ_

 **noitacoL** : _tnorF dloC_

The blizzard had come to a gradual halt, and the Base had been quiet. _Actually_ , the base had been quiet since it had been abandoned. _Twenty years ago_. The abandoned Base was good enough for certain Mercenaries to come and occupy the unattended gadgets and housings. It was the perfect place for the project to be unfolded. This had started nearly thirteen years ago, and eventually over the years had become a fully functioning Base with the help of an Engineer and an ambitious Medic. The Base was alive, but it was still quiet. _Because that’s how **he** wanted it to be_.

The snow nearby crunched as the source made its way towards the figure which was lying in the middle of the front field. It looked like they were asleep, except that their arms were stretched open, almost as though that they were imitating the cross. The man who had made their way over, stopped before the other and looked down at them to make sure that he didn’t step on any part of their limbs.

“Numbers eight and nine are back, but five was a casualty. They also came back with a replacement for number one.”

“How about Nikolaus?”

“…”

The man’s head knocked to the side to glance at the silent man, his piercing blue eyes gazing at the tinted goggle only to see his own reflection. He knew the answer, but he wanted the answer directly from the silent source.

“Did they bring back Nikolaus?”

“No—“

“Leave me.”

There was a silence from the man lying in the snow as he then looked away from the man standing before him. The action was answered back with silence as the man then slowly fixed his goggles to fix his posture. He was looking for something to support his statement, but the man before him didn’t want to listen, and then, someone cleared their throat behind the standing silence.

“Nikolaus still believes that Radigan Conagher is Dell Conagher. The choice of leaving him behind was mine. We have all the time in the world now to retrieve him, all we have to do is wait, but would you rather we bring him back by force? If so, Sniper can do that without my help; however, just remember that _you_ are the one who sent _me_ to retrieve him.”

The Christian Brutal Spy decloaked and glanced down at the man in the snow before looking at the other standing before him.

“If the boy finds out and still stays, somethin’s wrong with his noggin. A good beatin’ could get even the worst of the cattle to obey.”

“Dell, your ignorance is showing.”

The man who had been lying down slowly sat up to dust the snow off of his white lab coat. His hair was a short cut and white as they came, it was partnered up with his roughly groomed and growing out stubbles and his shying wrinkles. His blue eyes were sharp as they came and with his tall build only gave him a stretched sunset shadow like look due to his rather slender build. His voice was calm, but it was enough to shut the Engineer and the Spy up. _They knew not to cross the **his** path_.

“I agree with you Spy, I’d rather Nikolaus come to me by making the choice himself, but I am confused as to why you gave up a Heavy Mercenary to have a Scout. There’s no way that Nikolaus would ever enjoy the company of a Scout.”

“Your Heavy raped and broke the little bird.”

There was silence in the field, and Dell could see that Spy had crossed the line by being heavily blatant about what he had just stated. This meant that it was the man’s fault that Nikolaus had been broken. He had sent an unstable man to help pursue obtain his target. This statement only pointed the finger at one man, and one man alone.

“No. I sent you as the organizer and you allowed the Heavy to rape my brother. Heavy didn’t rape my brother, you allowed this to happen during _your_ watch.”

The man’s eyes were fixed upon the Spy, his head tilted with a rather _comforting_ smile upon his face. It could have melted every snow in Cold Front away, but the morbid aura it emitted was enough to summon the blizzard to consume the Base whole.

“Wilhelm, we knew that those who go through the Portal would be unstable and suffer a strong case of amnesia—“

“Dell, go back into the Base and condition the new Scout. Spy and I have some catching up to do.”

Spy kept his eyes upon the man who had conditioned him on his own. Those substances being injected into his veins, physical training, along with those endless nights of having his mind ripped apart only to have it put back together piece by piece so that he was mentally strong enough to travel through the Portal and reduce the chance of amnesia and psychotic breakdown. One could go through such mind numbing stages upon passing through many parallel duplicates of themselves just to get to one dimension. Yet, here he stood, feeling the snow around him slowly eat him up as Dell made his way back to the Base and him alone with their _**Medic**_.

“Do you know what I hate Spy?”

The calm tone only sent a gut ripping feeling into the bottom of Spy’s stomach, reaching up his throat and grabbing his tongue to make him eat himself. It was the feeling that would only be relieved if one ripped open their rib cage and pulled out the parasite with their own bare hands. The Medic was a parasite, but he was a symbiotic one. He took away more than he gave, but what he gave was enough in Spy’s life. _Job, experience, life, and even **the Medic**_.

“Hypocrites. You, are currently being a hypocrite. Heavy raped my brother—or it is what you said, but when I originally found you in your dimension…”

 _It was the past, and the old emotions of lustful thirst only resurfaced whenever he returned to the base dimension_.

“You too had been raping one of Nikolaus’s alternate selves.”

“That was the past—“

Wilhelm slowly stood up and began to dust the snow off of his person, making sure that he was free from the cold substances before interrupting the Spy once again.

“You are the past, present, and the future. Your visage is transparent, everything you do is transparent. _Literally_.”

He slowly approached the frozen man before leaning in and whispering against his ear, the grin upon his face ripped from ear to ear as his sheepish ice like eyes bored into the Spy’s petrified ones.

“Did you enjoy watching my brother being pumped like a bag of meat by the Heavy? Is he still the man you want to fuck until he’s crying and begging hungry for your narcissistically throbbing cock? Was watching enough or are you being dishonest of it being Heavy who raped him?”

The words were like tentacles slithering through his body and binding him. He could feel the older male’s hand slowly slipping up and tracing along the outline of his right hand, teasing along the fingers before intertwining them.

“…my brother was once so innocent…curious little bird who wanted to learn outside of my own life teachings…until that mad fuck got a hold of him and snatched him away to America.”

Spy felt the man’s lip flush against his earlobe before feeling a light tug of his right hand. The whispers continued against the flesh, “…tell me…how defiled is my beloved bird now? Are his wings soaked in cum and blood to the point that he can’t fly away now…? Or have they been ripped away for good?”

The moment to answer flew away with a single breath as Wilhelm harshly tugged the Spy’s arm towards him and drew out a scalpel from within his lab coat. The swift movement was followed by crimson splatter splashing onto the snow below them. The blood oozed deep into the layers as the scalpel fell pass the slow melt. The grip upon the Spy’s wrist was like concrete, and for a man who looked as though he was in his early to mid-fifty’s, his slender look was supported with pure muscle strength.

“Do you remember where your place is now, Spy?”

Wilhelm slowly drew back and gave the Spy a smile before watching him fall to his knees due to the pain and loss of blood. There wasn’t much he could do but slowly reach up with his left hand, taking a handful of the tail of the lab coat, “…forgive me…sir…”

The smile upon Wilhelm’s face disappeared as his eyes towered over the corpses to be. He raised his left hand to hover over the Spy’s head, as if he was going to be forgiven, before reaching down and taking a handful of the start of the man’s forearm bone and tearing it upwards to rip the clothes, skin, and the muscles up to the elbow. The grip on his coat dropped as Spy fainted dangling to his side from the sudden overkill. There was a brief moment as Wilhelm kept his grip upon Spy’s wrist before letting him fall onto the snow as though he was a sack of rotted vegetables. He looked down at his own bloodied hands and coat before glancing up at the window at the top floor of the Base and giving away a big wave of his bloodied hand with the smile upon his face, signaling towards the invisible voyeur.

“Take him to the infirmary and do what you can to patch him up, and make sure that if he survives he stops by the Engineer’s room for conditioning. We need him back on his feet to make contact with Nikolaus as soon as possible.”

Spy was one of the first few mercenaries in which Wilhelm had to personally condition; however, if it meant that he’ll need a replacement, he wouldn’t have minded parting with him. There was still a chance for this man to survive, but it wasn’t going to be a _huge_ loss on his end if they didn’t. He then reached down to grab a handful of snow to watch the blood out of his hand, the numbing pain invisible to him to the point that his hands had almost turned near white when he was done. As he then headed back towards the Base, he walked passed a solemnly quiet Christian Brutal Sniper, watching him head towards the motionless body.

“Glad to see that you know your place. I hope that Spy would learn from a loyal pup like you, Mick.”

The childish smile upon Wilhelm’s face flashed pass the Sniper’s grim expression before the two went their opposite ways. He traced the concave of his trigger as he approached the lifeless body of the Spy. Everyone in the Base knew that they were mere mortals; however, death could easily be dodged with the Medigun in the Medic’s infirmary as long as they reached it within thirty minutes of their _death_. It was a contraption in which the Medic and the Engineer had created with a sole purpose of not having the respawn program as a handicap.

“…I would have pulled the trigger…but you know me mate…”

The Sniper placed the belt of his rifle over his shoulder and reached down to scoop up the lifeless body close to his chest before glancing down at the imprint on the snow in which the Medic had left behind.

“You have your past, and I have mine.”

_You must be a bloody masochist, watching him constantly from afar._

The grip upon the Spy’s body tightened as the Sniper began to make his way towards the Med-bay, flashes of his first encounter with the Medic blinking past his mind as though he was walking through a reel of film.

_He may not notice you, but I do. If you work for me, I’ll make sure you get the attention you deserve._

**_You are worth more than that._ **

~~Was it a lie? Were you baiting me? Or are we merely a pawn to a selfish plan bigger than what you told us?~~

**Year** : _1965_

 **Month** : _January_

 **Location** : _Cold Front; Engineer’s Lab_

“…”

The sound of a steady beep was the first thing to kick into his mind.

_Beep, beep, beep, beep, beep_

After that, it was the sound of a familiar voice, grumbling on how irritating it was that the calculation wasn’t right. The voice was annoying about not being able to find the right measurements for the perfect synchronization. It didn’t make sense at this time, but first in order to get to the bottom of this situation, he wanted to wake up.

“…hnmg…D-Doc?”

Scout’s eyes slowly peeled open in search of the Medic, only to quickly squint at the sudden ray of light showering over him. His vision was heavily blurred, and he could feel the sense of pain gradually returning to his body. He didn’t understand the pain at first, but then he remembered the crash and the sound of Medic shouting and bargaining while he lied lifeless. He wondered if it was Medic who was currently with him. _That would have been quite wonderful to wake up to_ ; however, the luck was never in his favor as he watched a rather familiar face of a certain Texan approach him.

“You’re up. Good. Now let’s get this rodeo on the road son.”

 _Rodeo? What was the Engineer talking about?_ Scout’s vision slowly returned to its 20/20 bar as he glanced around the room and slowly down to himself. There were tubes inserted into him, injecting him with blue and orange concoctions while his wrists and ankles were bound by metallic cuffs which were built into the makeshift operating table. The panic brewed from the sight made him flinch up to get a better look at the current situation of his body, only to find that his neck was also bound down by a metallic cuff of the now realized contraption.

“Y-Yo Hardhat, what’s with the science mumbo jumbo yeah? E-Enough with the joke and uh…let me go yeah? This isn’t funny man.”

The Engineer’s goggle was accompanied by a straight thin line of his lips, trying to comprehend where the Bostonian was coming from. He then gave a toothy grin when he realized that the Scout believed he was still in his own dimension.

“Boy, you are in for some surprise but, this ain’t a joke. This here is your conditioning so that we can make some use out of your useless mind.”

_Useless mind? Conditioning? What was the Engineer talking about?_

Scout felt anxiety and fear boiling up from deep within his stomach. He couldn’t comprehend what was going around him, but something was telling him that it was nothing good. _He wanted Medic with him_

“How is the conditioning coming?”

An unfamiliar voice entered the room, which struck fear into the Scout’s already petrified mind. His eyes stretched far as it could to get a better view of the source. _A man with white hair and a medical coat._ He was obviously a Medic, but it wasn’t the Medic he knew. The blood wasted upon his coat and other pieces of his clothing, along with the calm and gentle smile he wore told him that this man wasn’t your typical Medic. It wasn’t just the attire which told him this, but his aura, tone, _eyes_.

“Oh? Look at those eyes full of life. Did you see this Dell? It’s so amusing and intriguing.”

The _Medic_ slowly approached the bound Scout, leaning close to study those fear stricken eyes with his empty, almost black hole like blue eyes. It made the young Bostonian felt as though he was about to be swallowed whole and cannibalized to the marrow of his bones. _This man was trouble, and he wanted to get away from him as soon as possible_.

“E-Engie! Help! Who is this man—wh—Where is Doc?”

The question made the smile upon the Medic disappear almost instantaneously. It was a strange moment to see a Scout in search of the Medic. This was a strange moment indeed.

“He’s been searching for your brother since he regained his consciousness.”

Engineer’s statement only made the smile upon the _Medic’s_ face return with a spine chilling vengeance. He was amused by this fact and couldn’t wait to abuse it to the core. _He wanted this boy to be his next puppet_. The next time this boy came in contact with his brother, he wanted it to be a memorable one. One where it would end in a beautiful rain of rose petals and complete and utter destruction.

“You’re going to be fun.”

Tears streamed down Scout’s cheek as he felt the darkness slowly came to consume his body along with the rest of those around him. The fear of this _thing_ before him was gut wrenching and the anxious thoughts of what lied ahead of them made him pray that whatever it was would be over soon.

_~~Help me, Doc.~~ _

**Year** : _1965_

 **Month** : _January_

 **Location** : _Cold Front_

“SCOUT!”

Medic’s eyes bolted open and shot up to sit up. There was a sudden pang from within his chest radiating, only to find his eyes bewildered and lost as he glanced around to see where he was. He was sitting up in his recovery room, the familiar blur of the light blue paint was mocking at him, while a lazy hum of his Medigun steadily toned next to him. He began to move his eyes due to how heavy his body felt and wondered just how long he had been off of the battlefield. There was a moment of panic in his mind before he found himself squeezing his eyes shut and pressing them with the palms of his hands to remember the last event which had crossed his mind. _The van, scout, a Sniper, and the clean loafers_. His eyes shifted from behind his eyelids, trying to concentrate on anything else which would have given him some—or even _any_ clues as to what else had gone on that night. _**The Mad Cook**_.

“Thought you were a goner.”

The voice of Soldier was the first thing to shatter his trail of mind. His eyes ripped open and hands fell straight to his bed sheet to see the American slowly tilting the Medigun and shutting it off before taking a seat beside the bed. He couldn’t really see the man due to the absence of his glasses but it was obviously noted that there was a lack of the usual Soldier Uniform as he could trace the outline of the white wife beater and the lacking of the usual blue helmet.

“How long…?”

There was a pause before he watched the Soldier reach over towards the nightstand and took a hold of something before bringing it up close to the Medic. _His spectacles_. He reached over and brought his clear vision back into his senses before seeing a grim expression on the American’s face.

“Two months. The Base is currently on shutdown, seeing as our supports are all _out of commission_.”

It was then that Medic returned vision realized two others in the room. The beds beyond Soldier’s back lied two others. _Sniper and Spy_. He hadn’t seen them for a month before the accident. _Where had they been, and why were they in such critical state?_ The Kritzkrieg was fixed upon the Sniper while the Quick-Fix was upon the Spy. They had been overcharged seeing as the effects of the two Mediguns were visibly surging through them.

“You shouldn’t keep them overcharged…it’ll bloody mess up their mind…”

“They were found by the Engineer, brought back as what we first believed were corpses.”

 _Engineer_ , it made the Medic’s mind race with a surge of questions but instead he couldn’t help but the question the state of his two other comrades. No matter how much of a trouble they were, he was still under his care.

“What happened to them?”

There was a solemn silence from the Soldier as he glanced over at the two before looking down at his own hands as they were now palm flat against each other. It must have been the stress of recalling the sight of his fallen comrades, but at the same time, whatever had occurred must have had quite the impact on the Soldier. The man looked as though he had gone through a wringer one too many times. He looked pale and stressed, and Medic couldn’t help but hold his tongue before rephrasing his question.

“…what happened to our team?”

“Engineer reported to the Administrator, told her that due to our recent casualties in the main team we’ll have to shut down the base due to lack of mercenaries. The RED team, along with the spare BLUs, was transferred to Teufort to resume their battles there, and we were told to recuperate from our fatalities and to report to her once it was done.”

“Scout?”

Soldier’s palms stopped moving before looking up at the Medic. He looked confused and lost for a moment. He seemed to be looking for the right words before settling for what he had in mind.

“The Main Scout Mercenary? Well, we lacked one from the start, so they didn’t count as a casualty.”

 _What?_ The Scout who had openly kissed him in front of the Soldier. The obnoxious Scout who wanted to go out for a drink whenever they achieved victory. The very Scout who constantly bothered him on a day to day base—was gone? No, Soldier had stated that they had lacked one from the very start. If this was the case, then how was it he remembered the Bostonian? Was it all a dream? Or-- _did he just disappear from this world?_

“You’re up.”

Medic’s eyes flashed up in fear and loss, only to see the Engineer enter the room. The Soldier sat in silence before slowly facing away from the man’s direction. It was an obvious sight, and made Medic wonder what had happened. As the Engineer kept his goggles upon the Medic, he had completely lacked interest towards the man sitting on the opposite side of his bed. _It was as if the Soldier didn’t exist towards the Engineer_.

“Yes I am, Engineer…I…”

 _Your mad cook will come and save you_.

The flash of those last words surfaced into his mind as Medic then looked up at the Engineer. His eyes in search of something, or anything which would give him some sort of clue as to what they meant. The search in the brief second ended upon the Engineer’s gloved hands.

“Boy…”

The way that Engineer had just called him _Boy_ , sent the chills down his spine. _It was a grim yet familiar feeling_. His throat choked up as he dreaded to ask the question which was hanging at the tip of his tongue.

“…Dell—“

“No.”

Soldier interrupted the Medic, making the sinking feeling in his stomach even heavier and morbid. The shadows under his eyes darkened from the thought as he cautiously glanced over at the Engineer who now stood in silence.

“…you…”

 _Was it the confusion? Was it the anger? Was it because everything around him was falling apart? Or, could it have been because he was starting to figure out what was going on around him._ The Medic didn’t know, but the adrenaline got the best of him and he found his hands gripping the Engineer’s collars. He pressured on with the little strength in him and fell off his bed and ended straddling over the unresisting Texan.

“You…fucking…Mad…Cook…”

The Engineer lied in silence as his right hand reached up to hold the Medic’s shaking pairs. The expression on his face solemn, calm, and unchanged before reaching up with his left hand to hook the nape of the angered man over him to bring the two face to face with merely a millimeter between the two noses.

“I told you son…think Texas style…didn’t you even notice? You’re not even in your own dimension, haven’t been for over sixty years.”

Medic’s eyes widened as he looked into the reflection of his own face upon the Engineer’s goggles. His mind began to spiral as he tried his best to remember. The sinking feeling of his reality becoming a bridge of uncertainty began to shake his mind as he quickly closed his eyes and focused to bring himself to a calmer state.

_The world isn’t what you believe it is._

When was the last time _this_ world was what it seemed?

_Back to America._

_Boy? BOY! Nik--Nikolaus, stay with me boy. You’re alive. You’re doggone alive! YOU ARE TRULY A GIFT MY BOY!_

_Back to the accident._

“…the accident…”

“Bingo.”

There was a dreadful silence on Medic’s end as he slowly drew himself away from the Engineer’s hold, releasing the grip as he sat up and made his way carefully back onto the bed. The steady hum of the two mediguns rang throughout the room as the three men sat in silence.

“…he is coming…”

The three’s ears perked when a fourth voice rang from beyond the Soldier’s back. The Spy’s bandaged face slowly turned to look beyond the Soldier and towards the Medic. His eyes lazy from the lack of energy, he slowly cleared his dried throat to speak up towards the Englishman, who was clearly going through a layer of confusion and loss.

“Zeir Medic…he is coming for you.”

Medic’s eye twitched from the statement. If there was one thing he knew for certain, it was the fact that he was immensely vexed by these _men_ coming after him. He had done nothing wrong. Everything in his life was him _running away_ from something or someone.

_Europe, America, Nazis, Grey Mann, now this unknown **Medic**?_

~~I am fucking sick and tired of this~~

.  
“…you mustn’ run anymore…little bird…”

“Shut your trap boy…”

The Engineer, Radigan Conagher, took a stand and made his way towards the Spy. Soldier, wanting to know more about this situation, reached out and took a hold of the man’s hand, holding him back, worrying that the imposter would harm one of his men. He had been tired of being lied to, and knew that Radigan Conagher had done something to Dell in order for this _lie_ to have lasted up to now. _Where was Dell? And what did everything tie down to Medic and this man?_ One thing was for sure, the Medic didn’t have any clue as to what was going on.

While the Soldier’s grip strengthened to hold the gloved hand, he noted mentally on how the man didn’t fight back from the grip, and the confidence he radiated even while being held back by an obviously hostile man; however, his thoughts were cut short as his eyes glanced over at the Medic. It was now well known to Soldier and the rest of the BLU mercenaries that the Medic was _immortal_ and held the power of regeneration, but the injury he had received were enough to knock the man out for nearly two months. The Medic, even with being bedridden for two months, had climbed to the opposite side of his bed to fall upon his knees before the Spy’s bedside. There were obvious signs that the man’s body was still weakened, but the statement from the Spy had impacted him enough to have him move such length.

“…who told you this?”

The Medic asked as his shaking hands reached up to take a hold of the collar of Spy’s hospital wear. The expression on his face was a pool of loss, desperation, fear, and anger, all a mask which the Spy had previously seen in his observation during the Medic’s captive under Grey Mann.

“Zeir Medic…”

The Spy glanced over at his night stand, eyeing his Dead Ringer. Medic followed and took a hold of the tool and opened to see a folded paper. It was tattered and partially messed with dried blood. His curiosity forced him to move on as he then removed it from its hidden place and unfolded to see a disheartening yet a familiar image. _A photo of his childhood self standing next to a light haired male who, at the time, looked to be around the same age as him_. _**His brother**_.  
…

 **Year** : _1890_

 **Month** : _April_

 **Location** : _London_

The swift footing of a young jet black haired man weaved through the crowded street, almost in a hurry to escape from an unknown assailant. His blue eyes glanced from time to time over his spectacles to make sure that he was far from _the unknown_ he was running from. His breath was quick and his footing just as fast. He ran until he entered the first alleyway he laid his eyes upon and ran down the isolated street to find another, then another, until he found himself entering an unknown red bricked building.

Upon entering the building, he entered the nearest room and closed the door behind him. His eyes searching through the dimly lit room to make sure he was alone, and once he was secure, he flushed his back against the door and sat upon the floor to catch his breath. His eyes slowly closed to take in his surroundings, only to notice that the building was silent and as for the room he had nested into, _empty_. The man heard voices from the walls perpendicular to the one he hid in, along with sounds of chalk hitting a solid board. _It must have been some sort of a learning institution_. As long as he was safe from _him_ , he wouldn’t have minded to take a breather here. _As long as he was safe_.

“What you doing in my room, boy?”

The sudden strangely accented voice shattered the comforted mind of the man as he then realized that the room was indeed _not empty_ The man’s eyes searched through the messy room only to see an older male sitting behind a tabled full of stack of papers and hard covered books. He felt his stomach drop as his eyes glanced around the other’s sideburns and their brown cowboy hat. If this man reported him to the police for trespassing and gained the attention to the public, he feared that he would be found.

“S-Sorry. I’ll leave—“

“…it’s fine, you can stay. You seemed to be hiding like a jack rabbit from a coyote.”

The man kept his seat planted upon the floor, not knowing what to do but to feel relief from the permission to stay. He slowly gave out a quiet sigh and took in a deep breath to calm his nerves down before giving the other a weak smile.

“…t-thank you…”

“As a man giving you a hand, mind if I ask what you’re running from? You don’t look like you’re running from the law, don’t give off that _criminal_ vibe.”

There was a moment where the man’s body openly jolted from the question. He didn’t want to tell a complete stranger as to what was going on. It was true that he wasn’t running from the law, but he feared the worst out of this. If it was the law, then maybe he could be locked away and safe from the _**other**_ and he wouldn’t have to worry about it anymore. The confliction as to whether or not he should share this information must have been on his face for the older stranger suddenly gave out an amused scuff and approached his _intruder_.

“Name’s Radigan. Radigan Conagher. I’m here visiting this University in search of an _apprentice_.”

Radigan glanced over at his messy room before looking back over at his intruder, letting out a chuckle before slowly taking a seat next to him.

“Of course, not many minds are ready for what I have in mind.”

There was only silence as the man glanced at the room’s mess and at the walls. He saw blueprints of unknown mechanics and calculations drabbled messily on the walls and on the blackboard. The room was very dimly lit with a fireplace, which also held strange contraptions half built before it. _This man must be an Engineer of sort_. His wondering eyes was active enough that Radigan caught and noted upon it.

“Are you interested in Engineering?”

The man’s jaws were clutched shut as his eyes slung back to land back on the older male. His lips pressed as he searched for the right answer to give. It was true that he was interested in Engineering, but he was more interested in gene splicing. He believed that the world would easily find cures if they were able to infuse certain cells together to create new life. Diseases and Mother Nature was evolving, so one of the things he strongly believed was that human creation too should do the same. _Break away from the mundane and think **outside the box**_.

“Reckon you aren’t.”

There was a sign of guilt from the man as he glanced away. His hands fidgeted upon his bent knees, an obvious sign of anxiety which must have been triggered by his guilt of not answering. Radigan, having been alone with no students to take in since his arrival in London, couldn’t help but to unload some of his words of wisdom on this lost young man.

“You can run from whatever you’re runnin’ from, but if you keep on runnin’ in their territory they’ll keep on chasin’. It’ll be an endless game of cat and mouse. The world is just too damn big for you to circle around in a small circle. You got to break the circle. Find your freedom. _Leave the damn cat behind_.”

“...I’m running from my brother…”

Radigan glanced over at the man who had been sitting in silence. There was a part of him which wanted to ask as to _why_ this man was running from his brother, but he didn’t want to push the small crack he had opened.

“We’re not related, but I’ve known him since he was young, but even when I was brought into the house, I knew that something was wrong with him. I know that the right thing to do is to stay with him…but I can’t take it anymore.”

There was a brief pause as the man began to reach out before placing his arms around his knees. His eyes bored into the tips of his thumbs to recollect memories as to why it was vital for him to escape his brother’s grasps. It was as if a winding chain had finally broken inside him, and everything came unwound before this stranger. He felt like a broken record player which didn’t know when to stop.

“It started with mice around the house, and then it moved onto our neighbor’s dog. I feared him. I feared that one day it would be me, but it wasn’t. He murdered our parents. _His biological parents_. He said that they were trying to tear us apart. It wasn’t them. It was me. I wanted to be sent away. I wanted more than just a small village life. I wanted to broaden my world and pursuit my studies in gene splicing. He…he wants to keep me caged up…he wanted me to be his little caged bird, so innocent and pure…so _ignorant_ , and I want nothing of that world. I refuse to be the part of him he lost. I want to be my own person. So, I took today and just… _ **ran**_.”

Radigan was one of those who didn’t believe in luck. He was a man of logic and science; however, today was the one single day where he believed that _Lady Luck_ was truly on his side. She had brought him this man, and this man could become the key to his _breakthrough_. The perfect **catalyst** he had been searching for in order to return to his own dimension.

"What is your name Boy?"

"...Nikolaus..."

 **Year** : _1882_

 **Month** : _January_

 **Location** : _Munich_

 _Mama and Papa are fighting again_. They must have found one of brother’s works again. It was known to them that he had a strange interest, but they didn’t know how to handle it. I feel sorry for Mama and Papa, they never hold brother like they hold me. I fear that one day this would cause brother to hurt me as he did with our neighbor’s dog. Niko was a good dog, I liked him because our name was a like. I wish I had the strength at the time to stop brother from harming Niko.

The reason that Mama and Papa are staying together is because they believe that I can change brother’s mentality. They think that my way of thinking and acting would eventually influence him, but they are wrong. I am scared of him. I can feel him watching me sleep at night and even observing me from afar as though he is studying an animal. It is almost as though he is a wolf stalking a deer before bringing down the killing blow. I see him watching them arguing, I fear that he’ll hurt them too. _But I fear most that he’ll hurt me first before he hurts them because they are much bigger than he is_.

“…Brother?”

There are times when I call for him and seeing his eyes send chills down my already cold spine. The snow was nothing compared to my brother’s stare. I can never read him, and the smirk he wears as he then tells me to come up and climb the tree, I fear that it is an amusement he shares as he mentally pictures himself pushing me off once I am up there. The snow may cushion my fall, but the action would truly scar me for life. _I am scared of my brother_.

“…I fell last time…it really hurt…I-I just want you down here is all, so that you wouldn’t get hurt too…not that…you ever do…”

Before my words come to an end, I see my brother jump off of the tree and instead of jumping away—I embrace him to catch him. I sometimes have this belief that if I show him that I care, he’ll return the favor. The bump on my head from hitting the ground, even with the cushion of the snow, is painful but I don’t share this. I am just glad that I am alive, and glad that my brother is safe. _I think_. He demands to know why I didn’t move away. _Is this a test?_ I don’t know what to say, so instead, I tell him the logical answer.

“Why? If I did, you would have gotten hurt.”

I can see my brother examining me. _What are you thinking brother?_ Are you thinking about cutting me open and examining my innards as you did with Niko? Or are you thinking of ways to dispose my body as you did with the stray cat you found the other day. Your face is hard to read. It’s as if I am staring at a blank white page, a page whiter than the snow we now lay upon. _This truly scares me about you_.

“…What’s wrong, Brother…?”

Is all I can say when he places his face into the crook of my neck. He tells me that nothing is wrong, but I wish I knew what _nothing_ was and what was wrong with it. There wasn’t a day or night since I’ve met him that everything was alright. Since the day I met him, he made me want to run far away. It was as if I was standing in front of the Devil himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am sorry if there are any errors in this chapter. I've been trying to write as much as I can. I am not saying that there is a writer's block but I think there's a minor step of it. I do hope that everyone enjoys this.
> 
> I have story brain stormed and ready, it's just hard to really fill out all the details. It would be rather boring if I just wrote the plot in a two paragraph form and toss it onto the internet, so I do hope that people enjoys this.
> 
> I enjoyed finally introducing the two major characters of this AU, and I hope that everyone else does too. Or not. I don't know.
> 
> I'll be back soon as I can, but work has been taking a toll on my writing time + gaming time. I hope to update soon. Thank you for reading. It really means a lot. I honestly had thought of abandoning this fanfic during my time of hardship in real life and am glad that updating it had made other readers all up for the reading. Thank you guys. I really appreciate your supports. You guys are all very awesome.
> 
> [ I really would appreciate some feedbacks / comments mostly due to the fact that I want to learn what my readers enjoyed, hated, discovered, and just to feed my own curiosity as to what people really thinks about this fanfic. Kudos tell me that people are reading, but comments and feedbacks drives me to write more when I"m in the slums, which is my current state. #updated01_11_2017]


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